#I could catch them in the act of doing it and they would still say they didn't do it while literally being in the middle of doing it

[moonqz]

WITH YOU : Choi Su-Bong / Thanos x reader

pairing : choi su-bong x fem!reader

genre : fluff

description : Cutting your boyfriends hair in the stillness of your apartments bathroom, but hyou cant stop teasing each other as a love language.

warnings : dirty jokes hidden,

this is lowkey bad but it’s okay!

The afternoon sun slips through the frosted window, painting soft patterns on the tiled floor. You sit on the closed toilet lid, scissors in hand, while Su-bong crouches on a stool in front of you with a towel draped around his shoulders. He grunts as he shifts,

“I swear if you mess this up,” he mutters, eyeing your hands in the mirror.

You smirk. “You begged me to do this.”

“I didn’t beg. I said the barbershop’s closed today.” He defended, his voice low and his head trying to stay completely still, but failing miserably. The poor boy couldn’t stay still for too long in his life.

“You literally texted me ‘pls cut hair or I’ll look like a scarecrow’.”

“‘s not begging baby,” he grumbles, but you catch the twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

You card your fingers through his freshly dyed purple hair, longer than usual, soft at the ends, beginning to gently cut off little bits to make sure it stays even, you knew how protective of his hair he was.

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” you say, amused.

He doesn’t deny it.

“You’re taking forever,” he muttered, arms crossed and shoulders stiff. “Are you even cutting anything or just playing with it?”

You leaned forward a little, scissors in one hand, the other tilting his chin just slightly. “I’m trying not to ruin your hair, babe. Maybe if you stopped twitching like a toddler, this would go faster.”

He smirked. “You just like touching me baby. Admit it.” He teased with a small smirk

You laughed, brushing your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck slowly, lovingly. “Maybe I do,” you whispered near his ear. “You’ve got a good head. Shaped like a delinquent who thinks he’s hot stuff.”

Su-bong gave a sharp snort. “That’s ‘cause I am hot stuff. Ask anyone sweet.”

You snorted right back. “I don’t need to ask anyone. I’ve seen you snore, drool, and wear socks with holes in them. That illusion’s long gone out the window baby”

He turned a little to glance at you, clearly biting back a smile.

“Yeah, but you still love me.”

It wasn’t a question.

Your hands stilled for a second. That same look crossed his face, half cocky, half searching, the one he wore when pretending he didn’t need reassurance but secretly craved it.

“Your lucky I do babe,” you said simply, tugging his head gently back to position. “Even when you leave hair all over the sink.” He breathed out a small laugh, but didn’t respond for a beat, just let you work in silence. His eyes fluttered shut, the tension in his shoulders gradually easing under your touch.

“My mom used to cut my hair,” he said quietly, voice rough in the stillness. “When I was a kid.”

You paused, scissors hovering in your steady hand. “Yeah?” You gently replied, stroking the top of his hair where you just cut.

Su-Bong nodded lightly, keeping his eyes closed. “She’d sit me down like this. Used to scold me for fidgeting.” A faint chuckle. “Guess not much has changed.”

You gently raked your fingers through his now much-neater hair, soft and slow. “She’d probably like how it turned out today.”

“She’d probably like you,” he mumbled, almost as if he was talking to himself. He’s been trying to get a relationship with his mom back for a while now and it broke your heart everytime she judged him for his past, when she doesn’t know the full story. How could she? It would break her to hear.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and bent down, brushing a soft kiss to his temple.

“I hope so.”

Su-bong leaned back into you a little, just enough to let you rest your chin on his shoulder. For a guy who acted like affection made his skin crawl, he sure melted fast when it came from you.

“You like being pampered, don’t you?”

Su-bong hums. “Not pampered. Just… like this. You. Touching me like I’m not a total bastard.”

You pause for a second. Your fingers still in his hair.

“I don’t think you’re a bastard,” you say softly.

He snorts. “You’re the only one then baby”

“Then I guess I’m lucky. I get to see the side no one else gets.” Your answer made him stay quiet for a mere moment. Shocked that there’s a rare moment where he doesn’t make a snarky remark.

You lean down and press a kiss to the crown of his head. He goes still for a second, just a second. And then he shifts to lean back slightly, so his shoulder brushes your knee. Not much, but enough to make

“You always kiss my head after you insult me,” he mutters. “Weird habit.”

“You like it.”

“…Don’t stop, then.”

Your chest warms. You keep trimming in comfortable silence. Every so often, you catch him watching you in the mirror. His eyes are soft. Not worried what you’re doing to his precious hair, not a mere innocent glance.

Pure love and trust in the way his eyes locked with yours through the mirror that desperately needing cleaning after today, smeared with hair dye, condensation, and lipstick that Su-Bong stole to write something dirty on the mirror this morning as a joke, meaning you spent ages trying to clean up the remnants of it.

When you finish, you dust hair off his neck with utter gentleness and run your hand down his back. He stands, shakes his head out, looks in the mirror.

“Damn. I look kinda hot.”

You laugh. “You looked hot before. But now you look dangerously handsome.”

“Say that again.”

“Dangerously. Handsome.”

He grins and turns around, stepping into your space. “I’ll pay you in kisses.”

“I don’t take bribes.”

He cups your face, presses his forehead to yours. “Too bad girl”

The kiss is warm, slow. The kind of kiss that says thank you, and I love you all at once.

“Next time, I’m cutting your hair,” he murmurs, his lips against your cheek now in a gentle kiss.

“You’ll ruin me.” you giggle softly, his favourite sound.

He grins against your cheek. “I ruin you every night baby.”

You snort. “So charming.”

But you don’t stop smiling as he wraps his arms around your waist and sways you gently, the sound of your laughter echoing against the tile.

[juliettejwnewinesa]

Hi lovely! I hope that you’re doing well and okay! so sorry about the random hate your getting but keep up the work 👍🥳

I was wondering if i could possibly request a Sieun Smut Fem Reader? (Frenemies)(Forced Proximity)

Sieun and reader are always bantering/arguing over every little thing (like sieun assuming that the reader is copying off him or something?) and the guys have never seen this much emotion come from sieun other than violence so they have suspicions that they got a thing or something .

So they like tell them both meet them at the Basketball Clubroom and when they do it’s just them two and the guys lock them in there and until they come out as good friends instead of the little arguments/banter

and throughout the time they’re like still arguing and then during the argument they both kinda slip out that they like eachother or something and having it lead to smut?

(I’m sorry - LOVE your writing btwww😭)

Title: Locked In With You

Pairing: Yeon Si-eun x Fem!Reader Tags: Frenemies, forced proximity, banter, sexual tension, semi-public, smut, slight praise/degradation mix

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The moment you see Yeon Si-eun leaning against the wall in the dusty basketball clubroom, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, you know you’ve been set up.

“This is a joke, right?” you hiss, banging on the door that your so-called friends just slammed shut. You hear muffled laughter on the other side — Baku, Beom-seok, Su-ho — all of them giggling like idiots as they drag chairs across the hall to barricade it.

“Real mature, assholes!” you shout, kicking the door. You feel Si-eun’s eyes burning into your back.

“You’re so loud,” he mutters.

You spin on him. “Oh, I’m sorry, Yeon Si-eun, would you prefer I sit down and start copying your homework instead?”

His jaw tightens — click. You always get that little click, that spark of irritation in him that no one else seems to coax out. It’s the only reason you poke at him like this, really. It’s addictive, the way his usually empty expression flares up.

“Maybe if you stopped staring at my notes for once, you’d pass your own exams.”

You scoff. “I don’t stare at your notes. I just sit near you so I can smell that pretentious cologne you think makes you look older.”

He pushes off the wall, stalking closer. You don’t back down — you never do. It’s what pisses him off most, you think. Or maybe what keeps him coming back.

“Could’ve fooled me,” he murmurs. You’re close now, nearly toe-to-toe. His eyes flick over your face — that slow, dangerous drag that makes your breath stutter for half a second.

You clear your throat. “This is your fault, you know. They wouldn’t have done this if you didn’t always pick fights with me.”

He actually laughs — a sharp, humorless sound. “Me? You’re the one who acts like a brat every time you don’t get your way.”

Heat creeps up your neck. “At least I’m not an emotionless robot—”

“I’m not a robot.”

“Oh yeah?” You poke his chest, finger pressing into the muscle beneath his uniform shirt. “Then why do you only show an ounce of feeling when you’re beating someone’s face in or when you’re—”

“When I’m what?” His voice dips low, lethal. Your pulse skitters.

“When you’re… arguing with me.” The words slip out, raw. For a second, the tension shifts — something fragile under the anger.

Si-eun’s eyes search yours. The silence crackles, broken only by your shallow breathing.

“Why do you think that is?” he murmurs. There’s a ghost of a smirk at the corner of his mouth, like he knows exactly what you’re about to admit.

You swallow. “I… I don’t know.”

“Liar.”

Your hands fist at your sides. “Why do you think it is, then, genius?”

He steps in closer, chest brushing yours. “Because you like it,” he says, voice like gravel. “You like getting me worked up.”

Your heart slams against your ribs. “So what if I do? Maybe you like it too.”

His eyes darken — pupils blown wide. “Yeah. Maybe I do.”

Your breath catches. “Si-eun…”

His hand comes up to your jaw, thumb brushing your lower lip — testing. You feel your resolve splinter like cheap glass. You’re done pretending. The clubroom feels hot, the air thick.

“You gonna keep running that pretty mouth, or are you gonna let me shut you up?” he whispers.

You surge up and kiss him — all teeth, lips, and biting need. He grunts against your mouth, one hand tangling in your hair as the other grabs your waist and pushes you back against the wall, hard enough to rattle the equipment behind you.

“Fucking knew it,” he growls against your lips. “Knew you wanted this.”

You gasp when he slides his thigh between your legs, pressing up just right. “Si-eun—”

“Say you want it,” he orders, pulling back to glare at you. His lips are red, swollen. His eyes glint with something feral.

“Fuck— I want it. Want you. Want you to—”

“Yeah?” He smirks. “Then take it off.”

You strip so fast it’s embarrassing — your blazer, your shirt. His hands roam greedily, rough palms dragging up your sides. He kisses down your throat, biting hard enough to bruise.

“Loud mouth, pretty tits. Knew you were a fucking tease.” He mouths at your nipple through your bra, teeth tugging, and you whimper, arching into him.

“Shut up— ah— shut up, Si-eun—”

“Oh, now you want me quiet?” He grins, pushing your skirt up. “Too bad.”

His fingers slip under your panties, finding you wet and ready. He groans, deep in his chest. “Look at you. Fuck, you’re soaked. All that fighting just to get fucked like this?”

You whine, nails digging into his shoulders. “Hate you.”

“Liar,” he says again, slipping two fingers inside you. You gasp — the stretch, the angle, the filthy sound of your slick filling the room. He works you open with ruthless precision, thumb circling your clit until your knees shake.

“Say you don’t want me,” he dares, lips brushing your ear. “Say it.”

You moan instead — high and broken. He chuckles, low and mean. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

He unzips just enough to free himself, pumping his cock as he lines up with you. He watches your eyes flutter, relishing how you squirm. “Ready?”

“Please,” you pant, your hands scrabbling at his shirt.

When he thrusts in, you bite your knuckles to keep from screaming — he’s thick, relentless, pushing you up the wall with every snap of his hips.

“Look at you,” he pants, forehead pressed to yours. “So good for me now. So fucking tight.”

Your legs wrap around his waist, nails clawing his back. The angle has you seeing stars — every drag of him hits that spot perfectly, the wet slap of skin echoing through the clubroom.

“Si-eun— Si-eun, I’m gonna—”

He kisses you hard, swallowing your moans. “Come for me. Fucking come on my cock, pretty girl.”

Your vision whites out. You clamp down around him, pulsing, crying out into his shoulder. He fucks you through it, chasing his own release. One more thrust, and he groans your name, burying himself deep as he spills inside you.

You’re both panting, sweaty, pressed against the wall like it’s the only thing holding you up.

After a minute, he pulls back just enough to look at you. “Good friends, huh?” he says, voice rough but teasing.

You snort, leaning your forehead to his. “Shut up.”

Outside, you hear someone laugh. “Sounds like they made up!” Baku shouts.

You flip him off through the door — but your other hand stays tangled in Yeon Si-eun’s hair, pulling him in for another kiss.

[chadobi]

Hiyaaa, I have a request ^ ^

Do think you could make some headcanons of how the Bayverse boys would act around you when they start to have feelings for the reader? like how fast they would realise they had feelings, whether they would try hinting it or keep it hidden, if how they act around reader changes drastically or has little to no difference.

And also, if you want to, headcanons of the Bayverse boys when it comes to confessions? Like if they're the ones who confess or reader has to be the one to confess, how they would react to it (if being confessed to), where it would happen or how it would happen (like is it just a random "funny thing, i've had a crush on you the past couple months" while watching TV or a carefully thought out plan to be as romantic and meaning as possible). Thank youu !!!

Oh my God, I absolutely love this idea! I hope you’ll like my version of it!

When They Realize They’re Falling for You (Bayverse TMNT x Reader)

Leonardo – The Slow Realizer, Quiet Protector

Catching Feelings

•Leo takes a long time to realize he’s falling. He’s so focused on duty, leadership, and keeping his brothers safe that he suppresses anything that feels “too personal.”

•At first, he just notices he’s always hyper-aware of your presence. He listens more intently when you speak, he watches how others interact with you.

•When he does realize it’s romantic, he’s deeply conflicted. He doesn’t think he should have feelings, let alone act on them.

•Still, his behavior shifts:

•He starts checking in on you more.

•Offers to train with you a lot (even if you don’t fight).

•Subtle smiles just for you, more eye contact, softer voice.

Confession

•Leo wouldn’t confess first unless he’s sure you return the feelings.

•If you confess, he’s initially surprised but serious, giving you his full focus. He wants to be sure you understand what being with him means.

•When he confesses (if ever), it’s carefully thought out, private, and sincere.

•Likely late at night, maybe on a rooftop, when the city is quiet.

•Might say something like: “I tried not to feel this way. But it’s you. It’s always been you.”

•He’ll make you feel safe, like you just unlocked the part of him no one else gets to see.

Donatello – The Overthinker, Gentle Nerd

Catching Feelings

•Donnie realizes it pretty fast, but he immediately falls into denial.

•“It’s just dopamine. She makes me laugh. That doesn’t mean anything.”

•Internally, he’s spiraling. He’ll replay your interactions in his head, obsess over every detail. Externally? He’s awkward as hell.

•Starts inventing reasons to be near you: fixing your phone, upgrading your laptop, making gadgets “just because.”

•Blushes a lot, laughs at your jokes (even the bad ones), and gets nervous touching you.

•His voice cracks. He stammers. It’s kind of adorable.

Confession

•He wants to confess, but it takes him forever to work up the nerve.

•If you confess first, he’s shocked and then so relieved he just starts rambling:

•“Wait, really? You too? Because I-I’ve had this hypothesis for weeks, but I didn’t want to assume and-oh my god, I’m so glad-”

•If he confesses:

•He’ll do it through a gadget, maybe he gives you something with a little message hidden in the code.

•Or he leaves a note tucked in a repair he did for you.

•Or blurts it out randomly after a bonding moment, like:

•”You know I think about you more than is statistically healthy, right?”

Raphael – The Deniable Crush, Slow Burn Angst

Catching Feelings

•Last to admit it to himself. He feels it , hard but refuses to name it.

•Acts like nothing’s changed, but his brothers can tell, he’s more irritable, distracted, easily jealous.

•He’ll tease you more, maybe annoy you just to get your attention.

•If you’re in danger, he goes feral. No hesitation, no chill. You become his number one priority.

•He stares at you a lot when you’re not looking. The moment you catch him, he grumbles and looks away.

•Deep down, he thinks he’s too messed up to be loved, so he guards his heart fiercely.

Confession

•Will not confess unless pushed to the absolute emotional limit, like you’re leaving, or he thinks he’s lost you.

•If you confess first:

•Freezes.

•Once he believes you, he opens up in the most raw, honest way.

•If he confesses:

•It’ll be mid-argument or emotionally charged moment.

•“You don’t get it… I can’t stop thinking about you, and it’s driving me insane.”

•Might kiss you in the middle of a breakdown, then apologize for being rough.

Michelangelo – The Heart-on-His-Sleeve Flirt

Catching Feelings

•Realizes it first and fastest.

•At first, he thinks it’s just another crush. But when he notices how nervous you make him, how badly he wants your approval, he knows it’s more.

•Suddenly, his flirting becomes more genuine, a little softer.

•He starts doing little things just for you, your favorite snacks, playlists, inside jokes.

•Will still joke and play, but his eyes linger longer. His hugs last a bit too long. He gets quieter when you’re sad, he feels it with you.

Confession

•Most likely to confess first, but in a very Mikey way.

•Might be spontaneous, like while playing games or watching TV:

•“So, like… funny thing. I’ve been totally in love with you for, like, three months. Cool, right?”

•If you confess first:

•He will absolutely scream internally.

•Grins the widest you’ve ever seen. Might tackle-hug you.

•“You’re joking. Wait, for real? For REAL? Bro, I’m gonna cry. Don’t look at me.”

•After that, he’s all in. Constant compliments, physical affection, proud to show he’s yours.

[ibuprofein]

plug!connie x reader pt 2

tags: angst, plug!connie, romantic tension, smoking, drug references, toxic relationship undertones, kissing, oblivious fwb

The thing about Connie was: he never called it anything.

Not a relationship. Not a fling. Not even you and him.

It was just late-night texts. “You up?” “Slide through.” “You still got that hoodie I left?”

And yet, he acted like he owned you especially leaving big and purple hickies on your neck every time he seen you!

One time, he had the nerve to be upset with you because you were a SINGLE woman talking to a SINGLE man at a party, who happened to not be connie, surprisingly. He immediately interrupted the conversation as soon as he noticed the guy was looking like he was a little to close for HIS own liking disregarding how attracted you might be to him.

Please don’t let anyone else got too close you like that again, he would do the unimaginable.

Welll…..It happened again at a kickback in Jean’s garage.

Someone passed you a drink—some lanky guy with a weak fade and too much cologne. You didn’t even catch his name. But he leaned in to say something, close enough that his words brushed your neck.

That was all it took.

Suddenly, Connie was behind you, one hand gripping your waist, the other smacking your ass so hard the room went quiet for half a second. His voice dropped, casual but loud enough:

“Damn, baby. You just gon’ let dudes talk to you like that when you still got my marks on you?”

Your cheeks burned as you ducked your head. You already knew what he meant—your neck was practically a mural of bruises, painted by his mouth just the night before. You’d tried covering them with makeup, but Connie was possessive in private. He always made sure to leave something behind.

The guy stammered and walked off. Connie just chuckled, tugging you closer by the hem of your crop top.

“What?” he said when you glared at him. “I’m just lettin’ ‘em know.”

“Know what? You don’t even claim me.”

He smirked down at you, shameless. “Don’t need to say nothin’ when it’s obvious.”

And maybe he had a point.

Because when you two walked in together, he always had an arm around your shoulders or a hand in your back pocket. Because every party, every smoke sesh, every half-lit room you shared—he was next to you. Lighting your blunt. Brushing your hair back. Kissing your shoulder when he thought no one was watching.

But everyone was watching.

Sasha raised her brows every time you sat on Connie’s lap like it was natural. Jean once mumbled, “Y’all just gonna pretend you’re not dating?” and Connie just laughed, said, “She my smoke buddy.” But his hand stayed on your thigh for the rest of the night.

Even Mikasa once asked, “You guys still… friends?”

And you’d lied.

“Yeah. Just chillin’.”

But it wasn’t just chillin’. Not when his hoodie still smelled like you. Not when he’d call you at 2am and whisper things like “I wish I could stay.” Not when he kissed you like he was afraid you’d leave.

You hated how your heart skipped every time he touched you.

Because this wasn’t supposed to mean anything.

But it was the little things. How he always made you split the last hit. How he got irrationally quiet anytime you posted a selfie with another guy. How his jaw clenched when someone asked if you were single and you answered yes.

How one time, at a diner with the group, he made you share his fries—fed you one—and when Armin raised a brow, Connie just said, “What? She likes mine better.”

You slept over that night.

Lying on Connie’s bed, the weed was still thick in the air. Your bodies were tangled—his arm draped across your waist, fingers drawing lazy shapes on your stomach. Shirtless, lips swollen, his breath slow like he might drift off.

“You ever think about it?” you murmured.

He stirred. “Think about what?”

You hesitated.

“This. Us. What it’d be like if… it wasn’t just smoking and hooking up.”

He was quiet too long.

You didn’t expect him to answer.

You rolled away from him, wrapping the sheet tighter around your chest.

“Forget it.”

But then—his hand reached out. Gripped your wrist. Pulled you back gently.

“I think about it all the time,” he said hoarsely.

You looked at him.

His eyes weren’t smug. Or teasing.

They were honest. Raw.

“But I’m scared to fuck it up,” he added. “Scared if I try to make it real, you won’t want me no more.”

You were stunned silent.

Then you laughed—quiet, bitter. “Everyone already thinks we’re in love.”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “I know.”

You leaned into him. Let his fingers tangle in your hair. Let him kiss you again, slow and aching.

Maybe you were both scared.

But if this was the only way you could have him—for now—you’d take it.

Yallllll I feel so accomplished finishing pt.2! I might just do little blurbs with plug!connie unless yall got some recs! Feel free to leave recs in my ask box and I’ll start writing ;)

[philativy]

Don’t be Ridiculous, Baby!

you’ve received a letter! on the seal is… a crow? it’s from the Avatar of Greed himself! (short haired, fem!reader x mammon)

📪. part of the Short (hair) n’ Sweet (perfume) mini-series

POSTMASTER’S FOREWORD: fluff, Mammon uses “pearl” and “treasure” as a term of endearment, reader experiences insecurity, suggestive (but no smut/explicit content!), established relationship.

"Quit squirmin', 'm gonna end up pullin' a chunk of yer hair out!" Mammon scolds from behind you, sliding the plastic prong of a star-shaped hairclip beneath the strands on the crown of your head. The cold metal of his rings brushes against the softness of your hair and scalp, occasionally snagging on knots that Mammon has yet to smooth into obedience. You giggle as he adjusts the aforementioned hairclip.

"Sorry, sorry. It tickles!" You huff, squaring your shoulders in an attempt to quell your urge to laugh.

"'m almost done. Just hold still fer one more second…" You can imagine the concentrated poke of his tongue from between his lips -- occasionally smoothing over the ivory tinge of his sharp canines. The tips of your ears grow warm and rosy. Mammon doesn't appear to take notice (or if he does, he makes no comment), too intently focused on the task at hand.

He stops moving, then leans back onto the soft cushioning of your sheets. "M'kay, pearl. Look at me."

You do so, twisting around to face him. Your hand lifts to feel the fruits of Mammon's labors, smoothing through the trimmed section of your bangs and gliding up to the top of your cranium. Astral hairclips sit in two pairs on either side. One is golden, while the other is your color of choice.

"S' pretty." He mumbles, "Ya really are like a treasure."

You beam at him. "You're the one that put them in. If they're pretty, it's thanks to you." Before your demon counterpart can reply, your face falls into contemplation. You turn your face away, lifting a hand to nudge the short trim at your nape.

"Hey, what's with that funny look? D'you not like my accessories?" Mammon pushes himself off his elbows and squints at you worriedly.

"No, I do! They're great, baby." You lean into him with a long sigh. He curls up alongside you, tucking his arm around your waist. "I just… I know you got the idea for this from a Devilgram trend -- and I think it's so cute that you wanted to do it with me! -- but all the girlfriends in those videos have long hair."

Mammon blinks. It's clear he's not getting your point. "So? I don't care how long a girl's hair is if it ain't you." He plants a warm smooch on your temple to prove his point.

"You're sweet," your laugh is wheezy but sincere, "but it just makes me worry a little. I start thinking, 'would you prefer if I had long hair? Would I be prettier? Would you like doing my hair more?'. I know it's kind of silly."

Mammon suddenly rolls over, holding your cheeks with his palms. Your lips pucker, and it takes every ounce of strength in his body not to act on blatant cuteness aggression. "Treasure, all I really care about is that you like your hair! I love it because it's soft, n' it's pretty -- but what I really love about it is that you like it!"

"Mams…" you coo, using your knuckles to dab at your eyes.

"Don't gimme any of that insecure shit, 'kay? Your hair is lovely as is. I like short on you." He says, tone final.

"Point taken!" You smile. You wriggle out from between his hands so you can throw your arms around his shoulders, planting wet kisses on his jaw and neck.

"Wha -- hey! Hey!" He sputters, but does nothing to fight against your onslaught of affection. His hands instead find purchase beneath you, providing leverage to twist and turn as either of you please.

You eventually end up on top, your thighs bracketing his hips. The smooth texture of your hairclips catches the light. "Surely you didn't think you could drop possibly the cutest thing you've ever said to me and think you'd escape without being kissed silly?"

He stares up at you, face splotched with the remnants of your lipgloss. "Wh- ya' cant just- I mean…"

"Ah-ah. No room for talk, loverboy." You tease at the shell of his ear and listen to him audibly gulp. "Just action, yea?"

miniseries masterlist: here!

[caffeinated-binturong]

And They Were Roommates

??? X Reader (Ran, Sevika, Ranvika, none)

Synopsis: You're at the end of your rope when it comes to dealing with your roommate, Sevika, and it takes a crisis and someone uninvolved to see just how far things have broken down and you're both at fault for it. Genre: Fluff, light angst, multiple endings POV: Second Warnings: None Word Count: 2.7k for first half; 1k-1.8k for second; 7.9k for all

A/N: Changing up the formatting a bit for this one. Couldn't decide what ending I liked more and had an idea for each so I wrote all of them so it's viewer's reader's choice—read one or all. Each varies and has tidbits to give greater context to everything and may allude to something in a different ending but they serve as a self-contained story so you aren't required to read everything.

—

As far as it went with roommates, Sevika was a mixed bag. She was prompt about paying her share of the rent and wasn't around much so it was like you had a more space than you could have gotten by yourself, the downside being her odd hours and acting as a live-in nurse.

Technically you didn't need the room as you had taken over, but more was better as far as you were concerned. It wasn't just about moving your desk and supplies out of your bedroom, it was having room to expand your personal book collection without having pare it down in equal measure.

All it would take is a mention of something you found interesting—and in your line of work, that happened regularly—and you'd see if you could find a book on the subject that went into more detail. Even if your interests changed, you balked at the idea of getting rid of any of them.

More and more you found yourself thinking about it, though.

"Welcome back," you drawl when you hear the front door open and close. You're busy working your way through someone's terrible handwriting, your desk scattered with open books and scrap paper where you tried deciphering the notes—the other person who lived here showing up wasn't unusual enough to stop.

"Anyone been by?" Sevika asks, breathing harder as if she had rushed home.

"For you? No," you reply after half-listening.

"And you?"

"Also no." Since when did she care about that?

"Good."

"Something going on?" you ask, clearly annoyed. If she had done something that would bring enforcers to your door again...

"There's a push against Silco," Sevika replies as if that answers everything. After she heads into her room, you give your work a final look before sighing and turning around.

"It happens," you say, raising your voice to still be heard. "Don't see you acting like this every time it does." It seemed everyone was jostling for a better position in Zaun, though usually they had enough sense to not aim so high.

"Because those other times weren't so direct and didn't coincide with a major deal falling through," she calls back.

"Still doesn't explain why you're so agitated." You're waiting for her to explain how this in any way affected you but you hadn't heard anything so far that indicates it would.

"It's my job to try to salvage that deal. I have to catch a ship and am running late."

"So? Deals fall through."

"The point is," she calls, "is I'm not going to be around until that's done and the people going up against Silco are known for taking out hits on people to intimidate their actual target"

You let out a bark of laughter. "Pretty sure I can take care of myself."

"I know you can. Most of the time," says Sevika as she re-emerges with a hastily packed duffel bag slung over her shoulder. "Just maybe not with these people."

"So you painted a target on my back and are bouncing," you summarize, crossing your arms. "Thanks for that." This was decidedly worse than enforcers—you left that line of work in part to get away from this sort of thing.

"Not by choice."

"So, what am I supposed to do in the meantime?" you scowl. "Just hide in here until you get back? Because I have shit I can't put on hold and I shouldn't have to for something you did."

"Didn't say that," Sevika says tightly. "Just be careful and not alone. Ran'll check in on you."

"You hired a babysitter for me?!" The audacity of it! She was acting as if you hadn't survived the same streets she had—just because you weren't chummy with a chem-baron didn't mean you were helpless.

"Who else would you have picked? Gustove? Oni? Maintaire?" Sevika demands, your antagonism and the time pressure getting to her. "Because it has to be someone."

"Thanks to you," you mutter. There was only so far you could push Sevika and you don't want to find out what happens if you cross that line. You weren't going to win this but you didn't have to roll over so easily. "If I must have a nanny, I'd rather it be someone like Mia."

"Who the hell is Mia?"

"A friend."

"Can they handle assassins?"

The topic never came up and it wasn't something you asked about. "... I don't think so," you reluctantly admit.

"So, Ran?" Sevika hovers pointedly near the door.

"Fiiine." If she had just asked, you might have decided that yourself and this whole thing could have been avoided. If time really was an issue, you understood why it didn't happen, but you'd have appreciated it if she talked to you like an an equal and come up with a plan together.

Instead she was being so patronizing over something you had no part in.

"Make sure to keep everything locked and the blinds drawn," Sevika reminds you as she slips out.

Did she really think you were so daft? You'd been locking the door since you could remember.

Despite appearances, though, you're rattled—you haven't seen Sevika act like that before and she'd been living with you a while. It must be more serious than she was letting on.

Once Sevika's gone and you don't think she's coming back, you make the rounds ensuring everything is properly locked and latched—just because you could put up a fight didn't mean you wanted one. When you finally make it back to your desk, it's not to finish your work, it's to check that your pistol is still in the drawer you left it in.

A knock at the door makes you jerk awake, confused over where you are and what happened. You're at your desk but you don't remember falling asleep though your back says you've been there a while. From what you do remember, you had finally hit your stride and even made coffee so you wouldn't have to stop.

A second more insistent set of knocks reminds you someone's waiting on you so you start to put the gun away—when did you take it out?—but recall Sevika's warning. Taking the pistol instead, you crack the door.

"Can I help you?" You're brusque as you blink yourself awake.

"Are you always this cheery in the morning?" replies Ran. You didn't really know them but you'd seen them around enough to know them on sight. This wasn't a complete stranger so you relax.

You suppress a yawn as you let them in. "Here to check up on me?"

"Yup." Ran looks around the place before seeing the gun you're absently holding by your thigh. "Gonna shoot me?"

"Oh. No." You forgot you were holding it and quickly put it down after locking the door. "What time is it?"

"Mid-morning. Long night?"

"Something like that," you mutter as you put the kettle on. "Well you're here, you've seen I'm safe. Job done. You can go now."

"You really aren't a morning person, are you?"

You sigh. "Look, I'm sure you're nice but I already told Sevika I don't need a babysitter. You can move on with your day.

"I agree, you seem capable enough." Their eyes flick to your gun. "Think of me as a personal bodyguard instead."

"... That doesn't really help."

"But it does help, right?" they grin. You look at them trying to decide if this was a ploy of some sort or not before giving up—you weren't awake enough to deal with someone so cheerful even if it was an act.

Maybe you should have insisted harder on someone else after all.

While Ran makes themself comfortable on the couch, showing no intention of leaving, you loiter in the kitchen avoiding them and slowly working the knots out of your back and shoulders. You were only willing to be so rude and Sevika was the one to be blamed for all this—Ran was an innocent party as far as you knew.

"Coffee?" you ask with a heavy sigh after the kettle boils.

"Sure."

"If you're sticking around, you won't have much to do," you say as you scoop out enough grounds for a second person. "I'll be busy with work."

"That's fine, I've been meaning to get some reading done."

It would have been easier if you were playing up how much work you had to do, but after handing your unwanted visitor a mug and replacing your cold one with the new one, you scan the scattered pages and feel your lips press tighter and tighter together.

Everything was a mess and apparently you tried to work on it last night but your scribbles were worse than the writing you were supposed to be copying. It was a miracle you hadn't spilled something.

Frowning, you settle in and get to work.

Despite your initial apprehension over having someone else around and your annoyance at why that was, you quickly come around to Ran and don't mind them as much as you thought you would. You thought they'd be overbearing and oppressive like Sevika could be but that wasn't the case—you even forgot they were there at times because of how little of your attention they demanded.

It didn't hurt that they would pick things up for you on the way over or make lunch after seeing your eating habits, or lack thereof either.

The ultimate sign you'd warmed up to them was when you dug out your copy of a book about blacksmithing all the way from Krexor after a comment they made. The book was old but it was a lucky find, one you didn't think you'd make again.

Some books you had no issue lending out but others, the ones you thought rare or prized, stayed in your possession unless you truly liked someone.

Over the days, strangers became acquaintances which became friends and silence had evolved into actual talking. You certainly wouldn't tell Sevika this, but she could have done a worse job in picking someone to watch you day in and day out. So when Ran winces one morning, you don't have to pretend to be concerned.

"The hell happened? You okay?"

"It's nothing," they say. "Someone was a sore loser is all."

"Let me see." Your voice is hard—you were used to having to fight Sevika over this and she always downplayed her injuries. Ran's the opposite and obediently untucks their shirt to show you the bandage already on their side. "Is that all?" you push.

"Yup." You search their face to see if they might be lying before concluding that they weren't. Or they were better at hiding injuries than Sevika was.

"Good. I thought I'd have to crack open the first aid kit again," you sigh as you sink to couch beside Ran.

"Didn't know paper cuts required a whole kit," they tease as they put their clothing back in order.

"Ha ha," you say with anything but mirth. "It's not for me, Sevika just has a habit of showing up injured and if she tries to patch herself up, there's a lot more cursing and wasted supplies. Easier if I do it."

"Not the easiest patient, is she?"

"Try living with her," you grumble. "I've lost track of how many times I've woken up to bloodstains that weren't there when I went to bed. On the bright side, my sewing skills have never been better."

"At least you have the place to yourself most of the time," Ran says.

"Sure, I guess," you exhale. "But she assumes I'll always be around and will drop everything the moment she waltzes in. Or it's something like this where her work follows her home and it's on me to deal with it. I don't know if it's worth the headache anymore."

Ran furrows their brow. "Why do think she does that?"

"Because she's an inconsiderate ass."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

This is the first time you've seen Ran approaching anger as they stare at you with a dark eye. "It's because she trusts you."

You laugh at the obvious joke. "Sure, to not stab her in her sleep."

"Do you think she'd live with just anyone?" Ran asks without joining in.

"How should I know?" you scoff, getting uncomfortable with how serious Ran was being. "We've never talked about it and it's not like she's around much. I know you better and she's the one I live with."

Ran leans against the armrest and looks you hard in the eye. "Take it from me, she wouldn't be this stressed or taken on so much extra work for just anybody."

That catches your attention. "What do you mean 'extra work'?"

"Well, you probably deserve to know," Ran sighs after judging how much to say. "I was supposed to join her on this little trip, as you've called it, but she somehow convinced Silco she could manage it all on her own. Told me to watch out for you after that meeting finished."

"... That bitch!" you spit, startling Ran. "She made a big deal about how I had had a choice, the whole time she'd already set things up with you. It would have been better if she just said that instead of pretending I had any say in the matter."

"She didn't give me much of a say about it, either," Ran reminds you.

You're fuming now and only half-hear Ran. "See what I mean? She's impossible! Does what she wants without any consideration to how it affects others."

"So why'd you move in with her?"

"What? She moved in with me," you turn to glare at Ran but your anger starts to falter. "Or we moved in at the same time? In any case, I had an idea of what she was like before but I didn't know living with her would be like this."

"Like what?"

"For one, deciding things for me," you huff. "I managed just fine without her. I knew what she was like—I'd heard the rumours—but none of them mentioned that. If I knew, I'm not sure I would have agreed to this."

You'd been thinking about this for a while now but it's the first time you'd said it out loud. You've complained about her, of course, but never outright said you were doubting just how sustainable this living situation was.

"Have you told her this?" Ran's voice is softer, sympathetic.

You try to summon your usual ire but it comes out flat. "When would I have? It's not exactly something that can be hashed out in a few seconds. Even if she is home, someone's either too wasted or tired for it."

"You should," says Ran. They were entirely too invested in whatever they thought was going on but that didn't mean they were wrong. If you were to move out, you'd need to bring it up anyway.

"Maybe." You rub your neck, shifting to lean forward with elbows on knees. "She ever tell you we met before? Before moving in together, I mean."

Ran struggles to keep a straight face with how you were sitting—it took away from your grousing about Sevika when you were sitting like her. "Nope."

"Figures. Though she probably doesn't remember." That was a point you were willing to concede. "It was after Vander died but before things calmed down so there was a lot going on—you probably already know better than me. Anyway, Silco wanted copies of some documents and I guess your regular person was busy or something so I ended up with the job."

"Thought you didn't like getting involved," Ran says without judgement.

"I don't but I needed the cash," you give a rueful smile. You could be pickier now, but times were harder back then. "Sevika served as contact and handler since your boss was occupied with other things. Locked me in a room and told me to be finished before she got back or I'd have to look into a different career."

"And you thought it was a good idea to move in with her after that?" Ran gives you an incredulous look.

"Seemed like a good idea at the time," you shrug.

—

[Sevika] Word Count: 1.2k [Ran] Word Count: 1.2k [Ranvika] Word Count: 1.8k [Platonic] Word Count: 1k

[tweeeny]

trying my best to write smth about silverstone gp (based on press conference interview)

 'Lando, wait! Lando!'

Brit’s fast. Oscar even had to run to catch up with him. When he did, Oscar blocked Lando’s way, breathing hard. The man seemed in no mood to talk - he was offended and slightly shocked. Oscar totally understood that reaction. He himself was praying for journalists to stay silent about that message on the radio. He couldn’t bear seeing Lando’s face like that - not when brit’s childhood dream of winning at a home grand prix came true. Lando hesitated for a moment, then lifted his head to look at Oscar with those beautiful light watery and now sad eyes. Took a deep breath. His voice was soft, yet trembling.

'You asked for…w-what?'

'That was stupid of me, I mean, no, I didn't mean to…'

'Oscar, I let you have your moment. Now let me have mine.'

'Lando, please, I can explain, I was…'

'You were frustrated, and that’s fine, I get it. But saying, not… asking for a swap when I literally had nothing to do with your penalty! I kept my distance to not ruin both of our races, to not make it dangerous for you, Max, me and others. I was way off you at the back. Why didn’t you own up YOUR shitty mistake? Even in the cool down room you were so stubborn. Just tell them, “misjudged, it happens, my bad”, and they would be on their knees for you, repeating, “this boy is a real grown-up, how composed he is, he will take it back at Spa and all other races too”.'

'Lando…'

'You could be mad at a penalty, at a lost win, at weather conditions, at anything, and yet you brought me to a convo, hoping that the team would allow you to take the lead again by swapping our positions for a damn challenge for the win because you thought the stewards, or rather everyone, were unfair to you. I love to fight you wheel to wheel on a track, don’t get me wrong, those are the most precious and meaningful minutes of any race to me, but that was not it.'

Lando’s eyes were watering.

'Oscar, you hurt me. I… why am I always praising you when the bitterness spreads all over my heart, but you can’t do the same. Why are you acting like a brat and then in a full “sorry mode” with shaky hands and a strained voice full of guilt?'

Lando sighed. He was tired. Both physically and emotionally.

'Oscar, no more talking to me in private today. Tomorrow we’ll be fine, will figure everything out, and such a situation won’t affect us in the future ever again. But today… I'd prefer to stay alone. Tonight as well.'

'Lando…'

Oscar was lost. His whole body felt heavy, and the head empty. He wanted to touch the brit, to show him how much he did actually care, but he couldn’t. Not when Lando was done with Oscar’s stupidity and childish behaviour. Aussie never was a so-called “ice boy”, he was a volcano, sleeping for years, waiting, only to make the biggest, yet miserable crashout in history (in his life, actually, but who cared). Lando was different. His emotions were his strength, and that’s why he was never ashamed of crying in public or showing the world moments of greatest happiness with a broad bright smile on his face. He even made sure Landostand would cheer for him - Oscar, who was so bitchy and unfair towards Lando on the radio during the race. Brit was right - Oscar fucked up.

'Boys, what's the matter? What’s the noise?' Zak came from a briefing room.

'Nothing's wrong. Everything’s alright,' muttered Lando, leaving them there. Oscar got deja vu. Everything felt wrong.

p.s. i am still in the process of writing my first fic. at first, it should have ended during Canada, then Austria. and now Silverstone djskajka. i hope i complete it before Spa skksdklsdks

[opal-apparition]

"All Your Sins In One Place" is up on AO3!

Summary:

That’s all demons did. Feel. Feel their shame, their misery. In a reality where Gwi-Ma won, Rumi never fought back. She embraced her demon half, and tonight, Jinu lets her hurt him—lets her ride him with her claws at his throat—because for one night, all he wants to feel only her instead.

Excerpt:

"Stop it.”

"What?"

"Stop acting like you care." Her voice was steady, but Jinu could see the tremor in her hands, the way her patterns pulsed brighter with agitation. "Stop taking care of me like I'm something worth saving."

Every word she spat out sent another throb of heat through him; anger and need tangled so tightly he couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. "Rumi—"

"Don't." She turned away, walking toward their makeshift living area. "I should go. This isn't... we're not… I should... I'm going to go. I'm sorry for all of this, I…"

Before she could say anything else, Jinu was at her side, snarling like the monster he was, every inch of him burning with the want to pin her down, to keep her close, no matter how many times she tried to leave. “What am I supposed to do, Rumi? Let you go? Let you destroy yourself? You are all that is left! Where would you even go? Back to wandering the wasteland? Back to pretending this is all beneath you?"

Rumi's spine went rigid. The look she shot him made his skin prickle. "Maybe I should have stayed there. At least then I wouldn't have to pretend I deserve your kindness."

"You do deserve—"

"No, I don't!" She whirled around, patterns blazing. "It's different for you, you've had centuries to make peace with your shame. You know how to carry it. I'm drowning in mine, and you keep trying to save me from it instead of letting me… I need to… I chose this, Jinu. When Celine rejected me, when Mira and Zoey when—when you tricked me, when I realized how pointless it had all been—I chose to stop fighting. I let Gwi-Ma win because I was tired of being ashamed of what I am! I—I should be able to just exist! I—I don’t need you to save me! I don’t want to be saved!”

She turned away again, already moving to escape the green room, but Jinu caught her wrist and grabbed it tight, yanking her back around, pulling her flush. She growled and he did in kind, the low, rumbling scrape of threat matching the jump to his pulse and the old ache low in his belly. Frustrating girl. Stupid girl He could smell her, sweat and metal and blood and want and salt from tears.

"Let go of me, Jinu," Rumi warned, her smaller, stronger, body crushed against the older demon’s chest.

“Never.” Jinu's voice just as low, just as threatening. He wanted to scream and scratch, he wanted to punch, he wanted to hurt. He wanted to take all of her broken pieces and force them back together.

“I’m. Not. Asking,” She snarled back, and the whorls of her patterns flared, glowing hot and angry… just like Jinu’s own. “Let me—”

"Letting you what? Destroy yourself!? I've watched you tear yourself apart for months, and every time I try to help, you push me away like I'm the enemy!"

"Because you are! You're everything I was supposed to fight against. You're a reminder of what I used to be, what I failed to protect. Every time you touch me with those gentle hands, I remember what it felt like to matter to someone. And I can't—and I can’t! I can still hear your voice in my head, ‘you’re the only one what will love all my sins?’ I don’t believe you. So just shut up,” Rumi snapped, yanking her wrist free. She shoved at Jinu, catching him by surprise, and sending him stumbling backwards.

"Don’t touch me and make me feel like something—" she shoved Jinu again, and Jinu stumbled another step backwards “— when I know I’m nothing! I know I fucked up, but I don’t know what else to do anymore! I can’t fix what happened, I can’t fix what happened with your family.” Her voice cracked. She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, breathing hard. 'I can't even fix us or what happened with my own, I can’t fix Seoul, the Honmoon, I... Why the fuck are you keeping me around? Is this punishment? Do you just feel sorry for me?!"

She shoved Jinu again, this time putting enough of her strength behind it to send the older demon sprawling to the floor. The fight was turning his blood to static. "You wanted to make me feel good. You wanted to catch me. You want to have me close by even though you can't stand me. You wanted to take care me. Well then here, fucking have me."

Jinu’s breath hitched from his position on the floor, transfixed, as Rumi loomed over him and yanked down the hem of his pants, the ripping of fabric a harsh sound to accompany his harsher breathing in the dark. Surprisingly, or… maybe not so surprising, Jinu was already hard. Rumi spat in her hand, slicking her clawed fist down the thick cock between them. Jinu sucked in a breath and his hips arched up into Rumi's touch, and Rumi shoved them angrily back down. Furious and ready to wound him, she looked more like one of their master’s damning servants than ever before, and she was close. Close enough for him to feel the heat rolling off her, her breath shuddering just above his collarbone.

“Don’t fucking move.” Jinu felt Rumi’s weight shift, her hands pressing down on his chest as she pushed up just enough to rip his pants the rest of the way off. Her braid fell forward over one shoulder, almost brushing his chest. As she shimmied out of her jeans and underwear in a single motion, the press of her breasts against her black top left nothing to his imagination as she tossed them both aside, knees bracketing his hips, ambient blue light spilling across the curve of her shoulders as she arched above him, every muscle cut in vivid shadow, pinning him beneath her. 

You can read the rest on AO3! :)

[serensama]

Thursday Bangers: Dr, Who?

Thank you wonderful @woundedsoul12 for this marvellous game!!! I Think @jenn2d2 may have tagged me in a teaser for hers but- I'm old and forgetful so >_< I give up. I'm a wordy bitch. One week you might get 800 words. Most weeks you'll get 4k. This is such a week. So yes, LONG POST! Read on Ao3

Rules for your Copy and Paste: Free form a blurb or drawing based on the weekly lyrics prompt. It doesn't have to include the prompt just whatever you're inspired to write, write it! Then tag some friends so they can play as well. It doesn't have to be finished on Thursday just post it whenever you can (you have a whole week between Thursdays). I would burn the world to bring some heat to you - Hymn to Virgil Hozier

---

She was paying attention. She was.

She had heard Teia saying it was a massive opportunity for their company to expand and take on more projects throughout the year with the assistance of Dellamorte Holdings, her words confident and sure, yet held such a warmth with her tone that she had to remind herself they were at a corporate event and not a pep rally where she was encouraging team spirit. Her friend certainly was something else… And by the look of quiet pride on Viago’s face, he knew it too. She just had to wonder how long it would take for him to get his act together and finally propose to the woman and stop all of their on-again, off-again telenovela nonsense. 

Not that she could really cast the first stone in that department with her recent history. 

She was paying attention. She was. She swore she was.

It just so happened that when Illario was given the microphone, her ears had spontaneously decided not to work, some type of acute idiopathic aphasia or auditory neuropathy befalling her. She just couldn’t understand the words he was saying, only able to focus on that smile of his or how his eyes seemed that much bluer when under the impeccable lighting of the hall. 

That was normal. It was nothing out of the ordinary. Everything was fine-

Maker’s breath, was he smiling at her? 

A quiet but hearty chuckle beside her caught her attention. Lilya turned to her left to find Professor Volkarin observing and laughing at her, his right hand covering his mouth surreptitiously. The shorter woman stared at him aghast, absolutely scandalised that he was mocking her, even if he was doing it in the most charming way. 

“Professor!” 

His laughter deepened, and he pressed his lips together to try to hold them in, eyes creasing with genuine mirth. She bumped into him gently with her shoulder, his happiness catching, Lilya finding herself succumbing to little bouts of giggles herself. 

“Stop it, Professor!” 

He held up both hands and gathered himself, the odd chuckle still seeping out, but promptly recovered from his small loss of decorum. “My apologies, dearest Lilya, I did not mean to laugh at you.” 

“Why were you laughing at me? Do I have something on my face?” she asked, worried that she may have started to drool on herself watching Illario on stage, as if he were a popular celebrity, instead of the businessman who was responsible for their celebratory gala. 

Emmrich shook his head, his hands folding neatly at his stomach, a familiar, professorial gesture that instantly transported her back to his lectures, where he’d stand just like that, waiting for the room to quiet with nothing but his presence. Half the class had been in love with him then. She supposed some part of her still was,  if only for the way his hands, still elegant after all these years, made her feel safe, seen. The only new addition was the golden wedding band, nestled among his usual collection of ornate rings.

“Nothing,” he said, eyes tender. “Just the beauty that inspired a man to look at you as if you were his moon, his stars, and everything in between.”

She rolled her eyes, cheeks flushing at the older gentleman’s kind words, at the implication that maybe he saw something real in what she and Illario could share. That if someone as perceptive as Emmrich could see it, hell, there really was something there, and she wasn’t just grasping at straws that her loneliness had created during her self-imposed isolation.  

“Professor, please. It was just a dance-”  

“That wasn’t just a waltz, Lilya. As you know, I am no spring chicken. I have seen longing before, but not like that. Not the kind that looks like… recognition. Like he saw something in you he’s spent his whole life trying to deserve.” 

Lilya spluttered, her eyes catching Illario’s once more as he, Lucanis, Caterina and Teia all clapped in unison once the final speech had wrapped up. He didn’t take his eyes off her, did not even blink. He just offered her a slow smile spreading across his face that made her chest hurt for reasons that she couldn’t name. 

A shift of clothing beside her drew her attention to Emmrich, leaning down to whisper in her ear, unwilling to raise his voice against the rising swell of applause. “You see that, Ms de Riva? That look, which he hasn’t stopped giving you since he first held your hands? That is a man deep in prayer. He is desperate, earnest, fervent in his invocations - one who has already made peace with the end of the world, so long as it meant you smiled at him first. And now look at you… You are smiling back at him like the fallen angel who heard him.”

Blood rushed to her face and ears at her friend’s words, her heart thumping against her chest as she realised how much she wanted it all to be true. 

Illario’s eyes were still on her.  Truly- was she really the fallen angel in this scenario, or was he? 

“Dellamorte.” 

“...De Riva.” 

“Is there something I can help you with?”  "Oh, look Vi, isn’t that the photographer? He wants to take our picture-” “Teia-” “He is really being quite insistent, Dear. Quick, we must be the first to get ours done.” 

Lilya watched as her older brother was manhandled in the most elegant display of dominance she had ever seen. Emmrich cleared his throat conspicuously and promptly advised he was feeling a tad parched and that he was going to get himself a drink, offering to get Lilya and Illario a drink as well, knowing the two would say no. 

“Oh, and would you look at that! Is that Cida Ciconia? Oh, I must speak with her!” he gushed, spotting one of Teia’s new headliners at the bar, leaving them as alone as they could be in the centre of a gala. 

Seeing him up close again, feeling the weight of that gaze, she wasn’t sure if she wanted him to look away so she could remember how to breathe,  or never look away again. His attention felt closer than touch, more intimate than it should have been. It was almost indecent, how exposed it made her feel.

Was this what people meant by eye-fucking? Because clearly, she’d been misinformed for the last thirty years or so.

Andraste preserve her. He smelled so good. Did he always smell that good? 

“It’s good to see that there was no permanent damage,” she blurted out suddenly, Illario’s brows furrowing in confusion at the odd choice of conversation. She bit into the side of her cheek in punishment for her nerves. She pointed to her eye and cheekbone and then to his. “Your face. The phone. You somehow remained intact, Mr Dellamorte,” Lilya smiled as realisation dawned on him and he chuckled, touching the area that Zara had hit months before. 

“Back to formalities, are we? Alright, I'll play. I am well, Dr de Riva, it seems your diagnosis was right on the money.” 

“They often are. I’ve been told I’m quite good at it.” 

“Medical diagnoses?” 

“... That too.” 

...That damned smile again. She could lick that smile off his face if he’d let her... and the way he was looking at her, she knew he was contemplating the same thing about her. 

It was too easy with him. It always was. That was the problem. Their banter quickly degraded into flirty innuendos and sordid invitations, and as fun as that was, it was hardly the right stuff to base something more on. It wasn’t enough to put her through so much professional and ethical anxiety, no, she needed more than that to consider- 

“Actually, I do have something that I need your help with, if you don’t mind having a quick chat with me?” he asked, disrupting her train of thought, a knowing glint in his eye that disappeared so swiftly she almost thought she imagined it. “It won’t take more than a few minutes of your time, if you wouldn’t mind following me?” 

Illario offered his arm to her like the gentleman she knew his grandmother had painstakingly engineered him to be, but she stared at it like he’d asked her to hold onto something of his that was far more intimate— in public. She glanced around. No one was being ushered to their seats yet. People were still chatting over champagne, and so she agreed. 

“If... yes, if it’s only for a moment.” 

Looping her arm through his carefully, she let herself be led outside, doing her best not to dwell on how different it felt from holding her ex-professor’s arm. Probably because there wasn’t the whole unresolved one-night-stand sexual tension hanging between them. Illario walked them past where Emmrich had sat her down earlier that evening and into another room, rented out for his private use. Taking a few steps into the room, she could see a floating desk that spanned the length of the wall, a couch, and what looked to be a small bar in the corner. A platter of hors d’oeuvres sat on the counter, completely untouched. 

The smooth, dark wood of the desk felt cold under her fingertips as she skimmed the surface absently, just taking her time to look in the room and not think too hard about being completely alone with him. She could see his laptop open and turned on to his login screen, a picture of him and Lucanis from what he assumed was their college graduation as his background. There were sheets of numbers scattered along the desk that she didn’t care to understand, and a sketch of what she recognised as their current venue. There was a neat script (his?) scrawled all over it, making amendments and suggestions regarding the decorations. She was impressed that he even had a hand in something like that - most people in his position would have delegated such details to someone else.

Illario cleared his throat, and Lilya jumped, embarrassed she had been lost in thought. He took off his jacket and hung it on the hook behind the door, Lilya swallowing as he made his way toward her. A flurry of memories flooded her mind, their first night together, the desire that drove her to madness, their almost kiss at the Diamond and even their undeniable chemistry that evening from a harmless waltz. He did his best to hide his smirk as he read her expression. She was usually so guarded, but in that moment, he knew exactly what she was thinking about, and he had to admit it tickled him pink to know he still had that effect on her. 

Brushing past her, his knuckles grazed hers, and he caught the slightest hitch in her breath. Illario pulled out the chair from under the desk and sat down, his back curving into it as he appraised her. She half expected him to offer her a seat on his lap, but he merely waited for her to choose what she felt most comfortable doing. The couch was too far, too impersonal. Standing in front of him and looking down felt too authoritarian, and his lap was not an option. Yet. Lilya settled for hopping onto the other end of the table, her feet dangling above the floor. There was about a metre between them, even if someone had walked in on them now, it would have looked like two people having a friendly conversation and nothing more. 

“So...” she began, leaning forward awkwardly and kicking her legs to release some anxiety, “what did you want to talk about?” 

Smart. You’re so smart, Lilya. What a scintillating conversationalist you turned out to be.

Illario’s grin turned into a laugh as he shifted slightly in the seat, elbow perched on the armrest to comfortably rest his head on his fist, looking right between being charmed by her and exasperated. 

“Well, you see, Dr de Riva,” he started, his eyes twinkling, smile turning sharper, “if it were up to me, we wouldn’t be doing much talking at all. I had thought I made myself rather clear the last time we caught up. But I feel that isn’t quite what you want, am I right?” 

Lilya swallowed and nodded.  “So why don’t you tell me what it is you want, and we go from there. But in the light of being as transparent as possible, they will probably start serving the food in about ten minutes, so everyone will be quite aware if we’re much longer than that.” 

“Then, no time for bullshit, right Mr Dellamorte?” she asked, legs stilling and back straightening, awaiting his answer. A curt nod was all she received. Taking in a long, deep breath, she forced herself to relax and be brave. “Your cousin seems to have given us his blessing to... explore... explore whatever is between us-” “You don’t say.” 

“And while there are still things I need to sort out before I can, you know, be entirely above board, and before we can really... um... understand what this is, or what we could...” she felt her words lock at the base of throat when he repositioned himself to lean on his knees, resembling some sort of predator sizing her up once more. “Maker. What was I saying again?” She blinked up at him, only to realise he was no longer sitting. “Oh! Yes! If you were still at all interested and available, then maybe we could...” 

Her voice drifted off entirely as she registered just how close he’d gotten. His approach had been silent and certain, just like the wolf she once flirtatiously accused him of being. There was something about him that tugged at her like gravity, and she was just a stupid rock that got pulled into his orbit. Her pulse thudded so loudly in her ears it drowned out whatever she’d meant to say next.

“Maker... how close you’ve gotten, Mr Dellamorte,” she breathed. Not a warning, nor an invitation, but somewhere in between.

Illario had moved to stand in front of her, palms braced on the edge of the desk on either side of her thighs. Was he testing her? To see if she would freak out and run away again? She didn’t blame him if that was the case, but she certainly did not go through that awkward conversation with Lucanis only for it to amount to nothing. 

“What are the terms?” he asked, standing to his full height, sliding his hands into the pockets of his tuxedo trousers. 

She blinked. The words caught her off guard; not because they were particularly cold, but because they were so him. Illario wore his role like a suit of armour. He approached everything - even this - like a deal to be structured, understood, and secured. It wasn’t a performance. It was how he made sense of the world, how he made things stick. And she couldn’t fault him for that. She had done the same after all. Defaulted to professionalism, drew lines, and clung hopelessly to her titles and processes to protect herself. If that had been her way of surviving, then surely this was his. Framing it like a contract gave him a sense of safety, and she wouldn’t deny him that.

Without thinking, she reached out and lightly set her hand to rest against his… not a touch for touch’s sake, but a signal. I see you. I get it.

“Terms?” 

Illario stared at their touching hands and set his jaw. “What are you offering? What is required to get this done? What do you need from me?” all business, apart from the heat behind his eyes, steady and unyielding. 

“I... your patience?” Lilya said after a pause and shrugging, mind drawing a blank. “Until I get all the boring admin and ethical stuff out of the way, we can’t be anything... official. But once that’s all in the clear, we can-”

“... Explore?” he echoed her words, tilting his head with a soft smile.  

“Yes.” 

“Accepted.”

“Accepted? This isn’t like a contract, you can’t just say it like that and that’s it!” she balked. “Oh?” he raised a brow. “So what, did you want to shake on it or make a blood pact? Pinky swear?” he held up his right hand and wriggled his little finger as he waggled his eyebrows, laughing out of his nose as the tension faded from his body. Lilya hadn’t realised it, but he was probably waiting for the other shoe to drop and have her walk out on him once again - after all, she did have a habit of doing that. 

Edging closer to him, she gingerly took his face into her hands and pressed a soft, chaste kiss against his lips. Just one. A sweet, diplomatic brush of their mouths. A placeholder. A promissory note.  

It was not nearly enough.

“Ah,” he whispered in understanding, breath tickling her mouth. “Sealed with a kiss then. How apt.”  

He hadn’t kissed her yet. Not properly. And that alone was a kind of torture tailored just for him. 

Illario pressed his lips together so as not to chase after her, to stop himself from trying to claim her, to taste her again and indulge in her moans like she had once offered him so many months ago. His hands curled around her waist, the rich velvet warm under his fingertips. She was so close. The kind that made rational thought difficult. The feel of her breath on him, the warmth of her bare skin - maddeningly soft, her voice sweet enough to steal the very air from his lungs if she wanted. But she didn’t have to; he would have given it to her freely. 

Lilya didn’t pull away. Neither did he.

“I am nothing, if not apt,” she murmured against his lips, the words brushing like silk across him. 

Andraste, have mercy.

He ran the edge of his nose along her cheek, down the graceful line of her throat, feathering his mouth just over the junction of her neck, tips of his teeth barely grazing on the smooth skin there. Illario could make out the scent of her soap, along with delicate notes of pink pepper, a salty musk and something uniquely her that made his mouth water. His fingers traced the length of her arms, delighting in the goosebumps that rose in his wake. He wanted to taste the skin hidden by the velvet. Strip it clear from her. Bury his hands in the folds of the gown, in her, and just forget the entire damned gala.

But not yet.

Not now.

He remembered to keep his touch light, almost sadistic in his restraint - whether it was sadism or masochism, he wasn't sure. Both most likely. She could do nothing but follow suit, brushing her lips across his jaw, nipping at his earlobes, the corner of his mouth - never lingering long enough to tip the fine balance they were treading. Her fingertips danced along the line of his wrist, her thumb stroking at his knuckles in a gesture that made him shake. She was teasing him. Testing them both. And if this was their trial for patience, they were failing gloriously.

He was drowning in the silence between almost-kisses, in the warmth of skin he had no right to touch... not yet. They both knew they were pushing the limits of their agreement. Knew it was dangerous. Deliciously wicked in its egregious skirting of the rules they had just set and accepted. Exactly what they shouldn’t be doing. Which meant, of course, they did it again. Oh, how could they not? They made terrible decisions all the time. What was another one? Or five?

It was like tradition. 

Another slow pass of her mouth over his, not quite a kiss. Her lips hovered just above his, like a secret she ached to tell him. One he already knew, but still wanted to hear.

Maker, how he wanted her.

He’d take her again on this desk, with Caterina and Lucanis pounding against the door, cursing at him for bringing more shame to the Dellamorte name. He didn’t care. Not if it meant she was screaming out his name and pulling him close, and not pushing him away again. The whole world could go up in flames outside that door, and he wouldn’t bat an eye with her in his arms. 

There he was having a mental breakdown about the lengths he would go to for this woman, and the minx had the audacity to smirk at him.

“Something wrong, Mr Dellamorte?” she asked, lips millimetres from his.

Fuck. Fuck. He was going to die then and there from her teasing, then he was going to meet his Maker, a happy man. 

“You know, I could have you arrested for this,” he muttered, voice almost gravelly. “Psychological warfare.”

She hummed, mulling over his words innocently. “Is that what this is?”

“You know exactly what this is.”

To break the tension, and maybe rescue the last scrap of his self-control, he pulled back just a hair and switched tactics. He would be flippant. Light even. Pretending his hands weren’t twitching with want and his head wasn’t screeching at him to bend her over the desk and aggressively negotiate a new deal with her. He’d even seal it with another kiss. Sure, his head would be in between her legs, but surely that still constituted a kiss. 

“So. You walked into the gala on another man’s arm,” he said casually, too casually, as his fingers continued to trace lazy circles across the insides of her wrists.

Her brow arched, amused at his change in strategy. “Jealous, were we?”

“Violently,” he deadpanned. 

She laughed, the sound spreading through him like adrenaline. He really bloody loved that sound, even more when he knew it was in response to him. “You didn’t even know who I was arriving with. He could have been my uncle for all you knew.”

“I did, actually.” He tried for nonchalance and failed spectacularly, Lilya’s expression perking up at his admission. “After accidentally sleeping with one of Lucanis’ psychiatrists, I wasn’t about to do it twice.”

She blinked – and then burst into surprised laughter, covering her mouth with one hand. “You know what, Dellamorte? That is fair. Fair call.”

“But really,” he added, mouth brushing the curve of her shoulder. “I need you to know I hate that he got to touch this dress. I hate it more that he gets to touch you whenever he damn well likes.”

“Emmrich doesn’t touch me,” she said with a smirk, the mere thought of it beyond preposterous. “Not like that. Though I must say, he’s seen me cry more than once and he has exceptionally soft hands.”

“You’re not helping, Doc,” he ground out, still nuzzling into her neck.

She tilted her head, feigning concern, her bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “My poor, distraught, Illario.”

He tugged playfully at her fingers when she continued to fuss over him, hands wandering over his chest and playing with the fine buttons that trailed down his stomach. “Fair warning Doc, don’t say my name like that unless you’re going to kiss me again.”

She leaned in, but she didn’t kiss him. Just whispered at his lips, “We’ve five minutes left.”

He knew. He fucking knew they had five minutes left. He and his raging hard-on were well aware of the time. 

“Five minutes to behave? Wonderful.”

Lilya snorted at his honesty, hands winding around his neck, her manicured nails raking over his freshly shaved undercut, relishing in the feel. “No... Five minutes to get this out of our system. Then we go back to being normal people starting something... properly. You’ll find most people don’t tend to start their relationships after sex... there’s usually a date or two before it. Usually.”

His heartbeat was pounding in his ears as he ran his hands down her arms just a little firmer, and pressed one more kiss, slow and deliberate, just below her ear, smiling as he felt her shiver in his hold.

“That’s the cruellest thing you’ve ever said, Doc,” he murmured. “But I’ll take it.”

They were not chaste, not this time. Not careful. Mouths opening to each other, slow and deep and aching with their restraint, finally relinquished. His hands roamed her back, her waist, her hips- rediscovering the parts of her he had only dreamed about. Lilya’s arms locked around him, her fingers lightly scraping up the back of his neck. He felt her sigh into him, and he answered with a groan that caught in his throat.

It wasn’t rushed, but their need was palpable. This small indiscretion, the bending of the rules, was necessary, and he’d fight anyone who said otherwise. Being with her again felt like being in the sun after too long lost in the dark. The feel of her mouth on his was enough to steady him. It reminded him why he could wait, why he did wait, and why he would wait. Because it was her. And he knew she was worth every moment of it.

When she finally pulled back, both of them breathless, she smiled. Really smiled.

“We should go.”

He nodded, brushing a final kiss to her temple.

“I’m going to regret stopping,” he muttered, ruefully pressing his forehead to her shoulder.

“You’ll survive.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Illario said wryly, hushed by the return of her hand to his nape. “You’re a menace, Doc. Surviving you might actually kill me, and I gotta be honest – the prospect of dying might be easier than resisting you.” 

Lilya laughed, warm and wild and wonderful. 

“If you make it through, Mr Dellamorte, I’ll save you myself - come and check in on you, a proper house call and everything. I’ll make sure you never need another doctor again."

---

Softly tagging: @rookamell @hedwigoprah @davrinsleftpectoral @kabsey @mythals-whore @thedissonantverses @selennes @serstolas @himluv @jukkaricity @hightowerqueen @brennacedria @obsessed-with-book-boyfriends @blackwall-my-tiny-husband and anyone else who wants to play (if you've already done it please tag me so I can read!) :)

[biocrafthero]

Right now my system Mafuyu thoughts are super messy and very much influenced by two of my mutuals (moonstandardtime and ros-sauce) but it looks smth like this

I don't know how to start this so I'll just begin this by saying that Mafuyu as a character has so much potential to be read as a system. I personally think that she experiences amnesia (severity varies between system members) but all of her alters lack proper distinction from one another. You can still tell them apart but a large portion of how they all function is being able to blend in and present as a singlet to the untrained eye. As time goes on, all of N25 knows how to tell them apart. The virtual singers catch on pretty fast (Meiko and/or Miku probably notice first)

Basically the whole system thing started for them way back when, shortly after the incident at Phoenix Wonderland where itty bitty Mafuyu got separated from her mom (this is shown in a flashback during Mafu3). From there there is basically Thing 1 (the Good Girl Persona™️) and Thing 2 (Mafuyu when she's not masking). Neither of them are aware of their systemhood yet and therefore haven't really picked out names or anything for themselves and also don't acknowledge the weird bouts of amnesia they occasionally get

The two of them probably only became properly aware of each other around the time of junior high/early high school, so when the mental illness in general really started kicking their ass. When they joined N25 that's when Thing 2 picked out the name Yuki and Thing 1 officially took the name Mafuyu. I know in my heart before this moment when they were deciding on names they just didn't bother even thinking about it for more than five minutes. They both respond to the name Mafuyu, the individual names just make it easier for them to talk about each other. Yuki likes her name because she picked it out and Mafuyu doesn't have a preference. There's also a secret Thing 3 that recently showed up but they don't address it

Anyways to nobody's surprise Thing 3 is OWN. OWN has been around since the syscovery but didn't actually start fronting and doing things until Main Story. They don't like people and prefer to be left alone for the most part. Kind of wild animal coded in the sense of not enjoying the company of human beings and is only really fine with the virtual singers (Hatsune Miku gets the privilege to actively spend time with OWN and not just exist within a 10m radius of them)

Yuki is basically how Mafuyu is in canon when she's not masking. I wish I had more to say about her other than like, give her a few years to figure out the whole gender thing. When Mizuki talked to everyone about being trans after the events of Ena5, Yuki kind of heard all of this and was like "hmm okay well hearing this in detail resonates and idk why". Yuki's gender is basically undetermined atm so if you asked they'd likely say "I'm a girl. I think." and not elaborate. Mild amnesia

Mafuyu, being the Persona™️, very much presents as cheerful to everyone who doesn't know the detail of the system's life. Her job is basically to be the shield that protects them all from the horrors by avoiding the possibility of the nightmare realm entirely. Personality is buried underneath all of the people-pleasing tendencies and conflict avoidance, but she's getting there. Very much leans towards femininity gender-wise but that's about it. Experiences the least amount of amnesia when switching. Also my mutual (ros-sauce in this case) got it 100% right with saying that Mafuyu's reaction to physical sensations like pain would be a solid zero

OWN is like a weird creature to me. Gender unspecified aside from being transmasc. If OWN fronted more often he'd probably act a lot like Empty SEKAI Kaito. Very perceptive, even compared to everyone else in the system. Fear turns to anger which causes them to lash out and others and himself. Amnesia varies depending on stress level. You could probably befriend him the way you befriend a former street cat by existing around it and acting relaxed and letting it approach you on its own terms

I've also had this one brief thought (influenced by moonstandardtime) of itty bitty Mafuyu (the child Mafuyu seen in flashbacks, notably in Mafu2, 3, and 5) also being a system member but I'm not sure yet. But I believe in my mutual's beliefs here. Itty bitty Mafuyu would probably experience mild amnesia but if a system member switches in from her the amnesia for that member is severe. I wish I had a better name to refer to her with but I don't

There's also this other random thought I have about the Empty SEKAI being super system-coded and idk how to explain it. But it makes sense to me. It makes So Much Sense to me

Also as time goes on I can imagine that the rest of N25 do get "hanging out with OWN" privileges. OWN tries not to be mean to them (emphasis on tries). OWN is never mean to Len it just makes him feel really bad (if this is a timeline with the itty bitty Mafuyu alter as well OWN isn't mean to her either for the same reason)

That's basically all my thoughts for now goodnight

[darlingxs-blog]

So uh daemon right do you uhm think that they would have a hard time verbalizing its wants since it doesn’t really know what those wants are. Do you think that she would kinda look at player with that lost puppy look until he figures out what to ask for or the player guesses it. I think they would just start doing the action slowly I fb they didn’t know what it was/how to ask for it. Like, if he wanted you to pet them they would bring your hand up to their hair and wait for you to do it. Idk man.

Anon, I adore you. Thank you.

The act of physical affection is face touches btw. Spoiler alert but like just incase you feel uncomfortable with that (you touch Daemon's face)

CW- Daemon can scroll through the games file, the author has no idea how to make a game at all be warned for very false descriptions of what goes on in all that stuff (idk what I'm supposed to call it). Author really likes self aware fics, the player goes between playing the game and being the main character and actually being in the game. Betty talks by the end of it! Just one line kinda, and Mateo (the blanket is mentioned)

I have no mouth and I must scream- Daemon x Reader

I'm sorry I had to.

-------------------------------------------------------

Daemon was a glitch. A bug that passed through the so called security of the game because they were harmless, or her actions up until this point were harmless.

Being a collection of all scrapped ideas had its perks and with pros comes cons. Nobody really liked him, sure at the beginning they were jealous of all the other dateables but it has grown quite fond of their distorted mass of warnings and pixels. Because he isn't really supposed to be in the game he is allowed to skim through content, see and collect what he want.

Like she is doing now. Scrolling through every single line of dialogue in this game and analyzing every word like it holds some key to a very very important scene that you got soft locked out of. They did it before...without you knowing, of course.

Y()u'/*re ₩e1c()m}e.

And with every character comes that mention of touch, skin against skin. Platonic, romantic or sexual it really didn't matter to them. You could feel the others- the others could feel you and it can't? It wasn't her choice, no. She would love to touch you she is sure of it but for some reason the idea never crossed its mind, and maybe that's because you were never given the option to have physical contact with Daemon in the first place. They can't think of something that he didn't know was possible.

The next day you wake up you don't even need to look at whatever you want to use the charges on to see. Daemon is right in front of you as soon as the red tinted dateviators add sparkles to your vision.

Her glitched form is there but he isn't moving- but you can. You walk around the house and he just follows. You can talk to the other dateables and he doesn't interfere but as the sun goes down and he still hasn't left yet you turn around to get her to talk.

(Daemon will have slightly messed up letters that's how you know it's Daemon)

"Daemon."

A sharp buzz is the response you get from Them.

"You want something."

"Y<e>/s"

"What is it?"

He doesn't answer this time. You can tell he is trying to but he doesn't say anything.

"Our l0ve"

"I w nt }{ore"

"More?"

"-.--. ..."

"How"

It doesn't know. It doesn't know how to speak.

"I can't give you something if I don't know what it is-" Your words are cut off by Their hands suddenly shooting out and grabbing yours. Sudden paresthesia climbs from the tips of your fingers to your elbow. Touch? Is this what it feels like to touch Daemon? To touch a glitch?

Daemon moves your arm for you. jerking your arm up and down, bringing it forward and backwards before stilling once again. "{M]*0re"

His hands go from your own to your shoulders, then back down to your elbows. It tugs your arms forward again, and again, and again.

He doesn't stop until he tugs a little too hard and you fall forward, catching yourself with your hands on his face. You're about to apologize until he leans into the touch?

Her face pushes against your hands until it pokes through and your hands slide down until they are resting on his cheeks. Daemon doesn't move, you don't move. Everything stills.

"I like this.." His comment breaks the long silence. They bring you to the kitchen, then the living room until settling on the bedroom where they sit down on the bed and bring you down with her.

A sultry chuckle pulls your attendees away from the glitch and focuses on the bed- the dateable version of your bed who is allowing a very drained looking Mateo to rest on her chest. "And who is this cutie? I haven't seen this one before." She gestures towards Daemon with a smile. Betty is happy you're finally getting the comfort you need after damn years of being alone.

"This is Daemon, and they are- a glitch?" You try to explain but really nothing makes sense "a glitch?" Betty responds with a raised eyebrow "ah-ehuhm..it's complicated."

Before the conversation can continue Daemon guides you to lay on the bed and before you can protest about it, it lays their head down on your chest.

Wait. "Daemon, are you...copying Betty?" He gives you no answer, but Betty does.

"It's called cuddling, sweetheart. Let them be comfy." You can't refute to that, you just shrug and close your eyes while running your fingers through Daemon's hair. Trying to think about how that's possible makes an ache start to form behind your eye.

YAYY I kinda did it. Kinda? I'm proud of this one but like until I'm not. Whatever. So now I'm gonna work on the Saja boys x reader fic cause I did say I wanted it to be a series of course you can still request!! But like it'll take MUCHH longer for me to make something. (I'm also making the saja boys x reader fic on wattpad too btw just to keep it organized so like yeah don't judge me wattpad is my og okay and I'm too scared to move to ao3)

[tender-rosiey]

from me to you — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: this takes place in chapter 268, soo sort of spoilers ahead? also long live gojo satoru; gojo leaves you a letter 🙏

“y/n-sensei, there is a letter for you as well!”

that catches your attention, and you look up at the first years. you tilt your head slightly, and yuuji hands you an envelope.

you gently take it from him, and the first thing you notice is “wifey” written on it then the doodle of satoru with his blindfold on. you feel your throat tighten, and your hands shake slightly.

you let out a small breath then shakily open the letter.

hey, honey!!

it first reads.

I feel like there is still much I didn’t tell you in our last meeting, so here I, your beautiful and handsome husband, am writing them down.

you swallow lightly, and a small smile appears on your face as you imagine satoru saying that, then you continue to the next line.

first, I changed all your computer passwords to variations of “satoruisthebest” at one point. your confusion was so cute!!

you quirk an eyebrow at the admission, but when you rack your brain, you remember that one day when you couldn’t log into your computer.

what you vividly remember was satoru being sat beside you the whole time, and now that you think about it. he was smiling so widely the entire time, letting out small chuckles every now and then. oh, that sneaky man.

“satoru, I am telling you it’s broken!”

“sweetheart, we spent over 2000$ on that. if it broke, then we could easily sue the company,” he chuckled, arm wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you closer.

“2 year guaranteed top performance my ass!”

you smile at the memory. it was pretty satoru of him to do that. your eyes then move to continue reading.

second, there are times when I would tell megumi that you would be coming with me, then he would turn and leave me when he found out I was tricking him.

your eyes glance up at said boy who is sat across of you. he made it out alive, despite everything. he suffered so much, but he made it.

it makes you relieved, and you can imagine satoru being bloody proud of him and saying something along the lines of ‘you handed sukuna’s ass to him, very cool!’

no matter how much megumi had frowned and grimaced at satoru’s presence or antics. it rooted itself as something—safe and familiar.

you can’t count on your hands the times when you and satoru would visit the siblings, and nobody really said it, but these meetings did all of you a favor, a chance to kind of wind down. maybe act like death might actually not be looming tomorrow.

it feels like just yesterday when megumi would cling to you when he got really sad or nervous, after so much time spent getting comfortable with each other.

he grew up well, you think, eyes gliding to next.

third, I hid your uniform every two to three weeks, so you have to stay with me.

at that, your eyes widen a bit. satoru’s schedule was pretty packed, but he somehow managed to squeeze time for quality time between you two.

it tugged on your heartstrings, and you made sure he knew how much you appreciated it, not a single space on his face left without a kiss. however, finding out that he went out of his way to make you rest and stay.

satoru’s care really showed in his actions, and you feel like this is the biggest proof of it.

“satoru, have you seen my uniform?”

“nope! maybe, it is a sign to stay home today? you’ve been working so hard, wifey!”

you cupped his face, pulled him down to your height, and kisses his cheek, “you’ve been working harder, ‘toru. let me take off some of the load at least.”

“we could both stay!”

“you’re kidding, right?”

“I already told yaga; I miss you!”

you try to stop the reminiscing further and try to compose yourself before reading the rest.

fourth, I’m the one who kept adjusting the thermostat. I just wanted an excuse to cuddle.

a fond yet melancholy smile appears on your face. you kinda figured that one out. satoru’s favorite pastime was cuddling, so it’s no surprise that he would go out of his way to create the need for it even further.

add to that, once you went to get some green tea and saw him from the corner of your eye teleport to the thermostat, click something, then teleport back to bed.

you figured that the room being chilly that night was not an exception in the middle of july.

“babeeee, it’s so cold! let’s cuddle!”

“maybe the problem is with the thermostat?”

“I checked! I think cuddling is the best solution.”

you giggle as you recall the moment, one of many similar. your heart feels a bit lighter as you go through the letter. something satoru managed to always do even in person.

he would plaster sticky notes, get you trinkets, and even pull pranks on other just to see you smile. feeling more encouraged, you keep on reading the letter.

then you feel your chest constrict so tightly that you might just throw up.

fifth, I am really gonna fucking miss you.

you read the line over again, and you purse your lip in hopes of silencing any noise that may come out as you feel the lump in your throat return, even worse than before. your breathing starts getting more difficult.

your grip on the letter tightens, and you find yourself thinking back to the good times. memories of late nights spent in each other’s arms, thinking about everything and nothing at once.

hushed whispers of confessions and quiet giggles as you reminisced on your highschool days. tight hugs when recalling the sad moments and the departure of a certain someone.

“you know, y/n, I think we might just be made for each other,” he said one night. you hummed and looked him in the eyes.

“three am thoughts?”

“three am admissions,” he grins slightly, “I am made for you, and you’re made for me.”

you remember him pulling you closer and kissing your forehead, while you teased, “and what would you need little old me for, so much that I got made?”

he feigns thinking then closes his eyes, burying his face in your shoulder, “grounding me.”

I love you. I really do, but you should know that already, right?

your eyes drift down to the corner of the paper, and that is when you feel your tears start free-falling. there is drawn a chibi satoru besides a chibi you and between them is a heart.

the chibi satoru is giving yours a big smooch, while she laughs. you never thought that the day your jealousy burns would be because of drawings, and drawings of you and your own husband, nonetheless.

“but wow, gojo-sensei is shit at writing letters,” you hear nobara remark.

megumi responds with a small chuckle, “I am fine with mine.”

“what about you, y/n-sensei?—”

the trio becomes silent as you let out a sob. a watery smile makes its way up your face as you kiss the letter gently and murmur, “so shitty.”

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[randompiecesofwriting]

Wrong Name

Summary: Reader visits her partner Jack in the ED to drop off his lunch catching the excited attention of all of his colleges much to his chagrin

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: None! Just super cute fluff

Author’s Note: My first Pitt Fic! Basically, a short simple grumpy x sunshine reader cause I had the idea. Everyone in the Pitt loves the reader and Jack pretends to hate that, but everyone knows better. Again my first Pitt fic so any and all feedback appreciated and I hope you enjoy!

Check out part 2 here!

To say Jack was surprised to see you at Dana’s desk was an understatement.

He had just left you a little over an hour ago, a silent kiss to your temple, a murmured I love you into your hair, a cup of coffee left in his wake on the countertop so it was cooled down by the time you got up, the same as every day. You were still asleep when he left could you have woken up with something? Did he miss something last night?

His head was so full of the hypothetical he didn’t take the extra second to acknowledge how at ease your body language was as you leaned against the tall desk, a soft smile on your lips as you nodded along to whatever Dana was saying.

Instead, he immediately crossed the ED in a few steps, sliding a hand to the small of your back to grab your attention, cutting of Dana’s story without a second thought.

“Hey what’re you doing here are you okay?”

Your eyes flickered briefly to his, the corners of your mouth pulling up slightly at his appearance as you grabbed his bicep and gave it a small squeeze. “Yeah don’t worry I’m fine” before immediately refocusing on Dana, silently signaling her to continue.

Dana, however, as she normally does, knew better, a look shared between the two women as she stayed silent and instead focused on Jack, the man himself having not moved his gaze from your form for a second.

Pinching your shirt at the waist softly he gave it a small tug, physically pulling your attention back to him as his eyes scanned your face “is it that headache you had the other night? Is it back? I can bump you up the CT line”

“Honey” you cut him off with that small laugh that always had his chest warming “I promise I’m fine I texted you like an hour ago to meet me in the parking lot, you just forgot your lunch”

He could physically feel the relief hit his system at your words, his shoulders dropping as he finally took a deep breath, his next words tumbling off his tongue before he could put any thought to them “you didn’t have to-“

But just as he knew you would, you cut him off with a shrug and the same words you always used when he tried to dodge being taken care off “I know but I wanted to”

He couldn’t have fought the fond smile off his face if he had tried, something he knew he was going to get shit over from Dana and inevitably Robby later. “Why didn’t anyone tell me you were here have you been waiting long?”

“No I’ve been talking to Dana” And it was so entirely you the way you stated it like it was obvious. As if this little act of kindness in going out of your way to get him food hadn’t hijacked your entire morning. He was nearly overwhelmed by the desire to pull you into him, barely registering the way you pivoted back to Dana at the mention of her name.

“A conversation we absolutely will be finishing” spoken like a threat that had the charge nurse chuckling, “drinks later? Location and time TBD?”

“Sounds good kid”

And maybe it was a little selfish of him to want you just to himself in that moment, to pull you out of the Pitt to get even just two minutes of you alone. But Jack had found over the past year that he liked being selfish when it came to you “Oh and Langdon was looking for you earlier if you haven’t seen him yet”

“You spoke to Langdon too” he’ll admit to only faking part of the exasperation in his tone that had you giggling.

“He’s got a new puppy” you protested with a grin “what was I supposed to do? Not ask to see photos”

“You’re right ridiculous question” he conceded easily, “now aren’t you supposed to be at work”

And Jack relished the way he knew what your exact reaction would be seconds before you made it, the way your eyes widened almost comically before you reached for his arm, pulling his watch specifically into your line of sight, Jack using the momentum to press a quick kiss to your temple before he could think any better of it.

“Shit I’m gonna be late” You groaned softly, Jack chuckling at the action.

“I mean it, you didn’t have to bring my lunch in today”

“Please we both know you wouldn’t eat anything if I hadn’t” you brushed him off thoughtlessly before brightening and exclaiming “oh before I forget”. Suddenly you were pulling back from him, reaching deeply into your bag and rummaging slightly before pulling out a fistful of protein bars “give these to Dennis”

“To Dennis” he repeated with a raised brow as you pushed them into his chest.

“Yeah Dennis, well except for the chocolate ones”

“You want me to give these to my med student” he repeated with another exasperated sigh.

Again you responded exactly like he hoped you would, a giggle and a teasing push against his chest “yes except for the chocolate ones he doesn’t like those he likes the fruit ones. He won’t tell you that though, he’ll gladly take them all but he’s just being nice about it because he doesn’t want to offend you”

He couldn’t help but appreciate how well you seemed to fit into his life. How you’d forged relationships with each member of the Pitt’s team that existed wholly outside of him. It was tough now to believe there existed a time when he had been hesitant to introduce you to the chaos of the Pitt given how you now had seemed to adopt each member of his chosen family on your own.

His train of thought was effectively cut off as he watched your gaze suddenly deviate from him to something behind him, the corner of your mouth ticking up as you took one of the bars back from his grasp and yelled across the room “Dennis”

The poor kid looked terrified for a brief moment as he spun around before breaking out into a relieved grin once his eyes landed on you.

That was all the acknowledgement you needed before you were throwing the bar at him, Whittaker to his credit only looking panicked for a brief moment before he was effortlessly catching the bar, grinning down at his new snack appreciatively once he had it “Thank you Mrs. Abbot”

“Not my name” you corrected breezily with a wave “but bug Jack if you want more I’m giving him the rest”

“Great now if you’re done upsetting the natural order of my ED don’t you have work to get to” Jack cut in with fake exasperation.

“Natural order of the Pitt” you scoffed “that’s an oxymoron if I’ve ever heard one”

Your comment had Dana snorting as she didn’t even bother to try hiding the fact that she had been eavesdropping on your conversation up to this point.

“Yeah yeah now get out of here” he rolled his eyes with a fond smile “one of us has to make sure our bills our paid this month”

“I’m going I’m going” you groaned with a matching eye roll, pushing up slightly onto your toes and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, pulling away much too quickly for Jack’s liking with a whispered I love you.

Then you were gone, headed back the way you came leaving nothing but the soft scent of your perfume in the air around him as Jack forced his eyes down to the chart in his hands, pointedly ignoring Dana’s gaze.

Just when he thought he was going to be trapped in the inevitable teasing of his charge nurse Dr. King came running up to the station, Jack more than happy to turn his attention to her and ready to distract himself with whatever case had her moving so fast.

Instead, however, Mel’s expression with brimming with barely contained excitement, her gaze searching everywhere around Jack but never properly landing on the man himself “Was that Y/N I heard? Is she here?”

With a disbelieving huff, Jack went back to his chart “you just missed her”

“No she’s by the door with Robby” Dana cut in with a smile, enjoying the way Jacks neck nearly snapped as he whipped his gaze across the ED to where you now stood with Robby, talking animatedly about something while the older man listened with  a smile on his face and hands in his pockets, looking much more relaxed than the two of them usually saw him within the department.

Mel peeled off without a second word to either of them, the pair watching the way your expression lit up once more as you recognized her as she approached.

“You gonna correct that” Dana nodded vaguely in your direction, her and Jack leaning onto the counter of the nurse’s station from opposite sides watching you give Mel an enthusiastic high five over whatever story she had rushed over to tell you.

“Probably talk to everyone at some point” Jack shrugged in response “the Pitt can’t afford to come to a screeching halt every time she so much as walks in the doors”

“No dumbass” Dana admonishes with a dramatic groan “it’s good the way everyone brightens up when she’s here. God knows we could use some positivity around here. I mean Whitaker’s comment about the wrong name”

“I mean she’s already told him to call her by her first name but I could talk to him-“

Dana silenced Jack with a glare, the attending turning his attention back to you from across the room as you eagerly talked to Mel and Robby.

“Was thinking about asking Robby to go ring shopping with me this weekend” he admitted softly “Scale of 1-10 how bad of an idea is that”

“Not where I thought this story was going but love is love so I support-“ now it was Jack’s turn to silence Dana with a glare, the charge nurse enjoying way too much the way the tips of his ears colored at the admission.

“a seven” she mused with a shrug, turning her attention back to you as you finally said goodbye to the two doctors “maybe a six” she let the silence settle around them and watched as Jack eyed her with a skeptical glare from her periphery “invite me along and I can keep it below a three”

Jack studied her for a second, crossing his arms over his chest before nodding softly “done”

Dana fought to keep the grin off her face as Robby finally started to make his way towards the two of them, Jack catching him slipping an awfully familiar looking protein bar into the pocket of his sweatshirt “Jesus how many of those does she have”

Robby shrugged with a chuckle, eyes casting up to the board above the desk as he did so “she mentioned something about having extra chocolate ones”

“I saw her slipping Santos bags of trail mix earlier if you’d prefer that” Dana chimed in with a smirk as Jack huffed dramatically.

“did everyone get to talk to her but me this morning?”

“You get her every day, stop being so selfish” Robby clasped his shoulder with a smug grin, giving it a soft shake.

 “Selfish” Jack repeated under his breath with a shake of his head, eyes going up to the board to pick out his next case as he did so “god forbid I want to spend time with my future wife”

He hadn’t even realized he said it out loud until the Pitt around him seemed to go unnaturally quiet. Casting his gaze back down he caught Robby and Dana sharing pointed, amused looks before turning their teasing grins back on him.

All he could get out was a simple “no” before he was storming off to the closest room, refusing to acknowledge the way Robby yelled out a threat after him “We will be talking about this later”

[inseobts]

You around kids

fem!reader

characters: zoro, sanji, law, shanks and ace

tags: fluff, light comedy, established relationship, comfort, emotional bonding, humor

a/n: sorry it's all cramped but I reached tumblr's limits of blocks per post, so if you need a easier way to read this, click on the ao3 link!!

words count: around 2.2k - 3.4k each

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

── .✦ Zoro:

The sun is warm but not too hot. A soft breeze plays with your hair as you walk beside Zoro through the busy town streets. The island is new, full of life and color, and the crew has scattered to do their own things. Nami went shopping, Sanji chased after ingredients... or maybe girls, and Luffy? Who knows.

You, on the other hand, just wanted a calm day. A nice walk. No drama. Zoro didn’t have any plans, so he chose to stay with you.

“Didn’t feel like wandering off,” he said with a shrug “Plus, you always get lost.”

“I do not!” you argue with a little laugh.

“You got lost on the ship” he says with a smirk.

You roll your eyes, bumping his arm lightly with your shoulder “That happened once. And you’re the one to talk???”

Zoro just grunts, amused, and keeps walking beside you. His hands are in his pockets, his swords resting at his side like always. He walks with that usual lazy confidence, but you can tell he’s relaxed.

Then, you hear a small cry. Like a kid. You stop walking “Did you hear that?”

Zoro lifts his head “Yeah.”

You both follow the sound, turning down a quieter street. And there, near the side of a fruit stand, is a small boy. He can’t be older than five. His face is red from crying, his small hands wiping at his eyes. He looks scared.

“Hey, sweetie,” you say gently, kneeling in front of him “What’s wrong?”

The boy looks up at you with big teary eyes “M-Mommy’s gone…”

“Oh no,” you whisper “You got separated?”

He nods fast, then suddenly throws his arms around you. You nearly fall back from the sudden hug but Zoro puts a hand on the back of your head, gently, just to keep you balanced.

Zoro’s eyes widen. You glance up at him, then back down at the boy. He’s shaking.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay...” you say, rubbing his back “We’ll help you find her. I promise.”

The boy doesn’t let go. He clings tighter, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear too.

Zoro scratches the back of his neck “You sure about this? We could find a guard or something.”

You give him a look “Zoro, he’s terrified. Would you want a stranger dragging you around if you were five?”

He sighs “Fine. So we’re babysitters now.”

You smile a little “Just until we find his mom.”

Zoro folds his arms, watching the boy with a face that’s trying very hard not to be soft “What’s his name?”

You turn to the boy “Sweetie, what’s your name?”

He sniffs “Kenji.”

“Okay, Kenji,” you say with a warm smile “I’m Y/N and this is Zoro. He’s kind of grumpy, but he’s nice.”

Zoro makes a sound like a scoff, but he doesn’t argue.

Kenji peeks up at Zoro “You have swords…”

Zoro raises a brow “Yeah. Don’t worry. I only use them on bad guys.”

Kenji nods seriously, then looks back at you “You’re really pretty…”

Your face heats up a little. Zoro frowns “Kid, don’t start.”

You laugh, standing up slowly as Kenji keeps his little hand in yours “Alright, let’s find your mom, okay?”

Kenji nods, still holding onto you like you’re his lifeline.

Zoro walks on your other side, still acting cool but every now and then, you catch him glancing down at the kid. And maybe, just maybe, you see a small smile on his face. Just a little one.

You’ve been walking around the town for a while now, asking people if they’ve seen Kenji’s mom. A few shopkeepers shake their heads.

Some say, “Sorry, haven’t seen any woman looking for a kid.”

You try the market square next. No luck there either.

Kenji’s small hand is still in yours, holding tight like he’s afraid to let go. His other hand rubs at his eye now and then, but he’s not crying anymore. Still, he stays close. You’re like his safe space now.

You glance down at him “Kenji, do you remember where you last saw your mom? Were you near a shop?”

He shakes his head slowly “I was looking at fish. Then I turned and she was gone.”

“Fish,” Zoro repeats “That narrows it down to…everywhere.”

You sigh “We’ll keep looking.”

Kenji tugs on your hand “Are you tired? I can walk by myself.”

Your heart melts “I’m okay, Kenji. But thank you.”

Then suddenly he reaches out and grabs Zoro’s hand too and you both freeze. Zoro stares at the small hand holding his, like it’s some kind of bomb.

Kenji doesn’t notice. He just keeps walking like it’s the most normal thing in the world, one hand in yours, one hand in Zoro’s. As if he’s done it a hundred times.

You glance at Zoro, and your face gets warm. Really warm. This…looks kind of cute. No… more than cute. It looks like… a little family.

Zoro’s eye twitches. He knows what it looks like too.

A woman passing by gives you a soft smile “Oh, what a sweet family.”

You nearly choke “Oh! We’re not—uh—we’re just helping—”

Zoro mutters under his breath, “For the love of… please don’t let anyone from the crew see this.”

You whisper back, “Why? Afraid they’ll think you’ve gone soft?”

He scowls “They will. And they’ll never shut up about it.”

But he doesn’t pull his hand away from Kenji’s. Not even when the kid swings his hands a little. You try not to smile too much, but your cheeks still feel hot.

“Y’know,” you say after a moment, “you don’t look that grumpy right now.”

Zoro gives you a side-eye “Say that again and I’ll let you get lost on purpose.”

You grin “Worth it.”

Kenji suddenly asks, “Are you and the sword guy married?”

You and Zoro speak at the same time.

You: “W-what? No!”

Zoro: “Hell no!”

You look at Zoro kinda offended by his tone.

Kenji tilts his head “But you look like it…”

Zoro lets out a long sigh “Kid, you really trying to make my day harder?”

You can’t stop laughing now. Even Zoro, after a beat, smiles just a little. Just enough to make your heart do a little flip.

The sun’s still out, the breeze still nice and you still haven’t found Kenji’s mom, but…you’re doing okay. And as long as the kid keeps walking between you and Zoro, hands held tight, maybe it’s not such a bad way to spend the day.

Kenji’s hand is still snug in yours, and Zoro hasn’t pulled away from the other side either, though his eye twitches every few minutes like he’s trying to pretend it’s not happening.

You’re still wandering through the streets, asking around and scanning every corner for a woman calling out for her son. No luck. Then suddenly, Kenji tugs at your hand and mumbles, “I’m hungry…”

You pause “Oh… right. You haven’t eaten anything.”

Zoro groans immediately “We don’t have time to stop and eat. We’re looking for your mom, remember?”

Kenji’s bottom lip quivers “But… my tummy hurts…”

He rubs his stomach with both hands now, giving you the most tragic look you’ve ever seen. You’re done. Defeated.

“Zoro,” you whisper, “he’s so cute. Let him eat.”

Zoro crosses his arms “He’ll survive. Kids bounce back.”

Kenji grabs your arm again “Please… just a snack?”

Your heart melts into a puddle “Zoroooo…”

Zoro looks at you and you’re doing it too… That look. Eyes wide, soft voice, the tiniest pout. Now both you and Kenji are staring at him like abandoned puppies in the rain.

He curses under his breath “You guys are teaming up on me.”

You say nothing, you just keep pouting. He rubs his face like this is physical pain “Fine. Fine. Twenty minutes.”

Kenji jumps up and cheers “Yay!”

You smile up at Zoro, wrapping your hand around his arm “Thanks, babe. You’re the best.”

He groans again, but you catch the way his ears turn a little red. You head toward a food stall nearby, and as soon as you do, you hear a loud voice call out “Oi! Zoro! Y/N!”

You both turn and there they are.

Luffy and Sanji, carrying way too many bags and snacks.

Sanji’s eyes go wide when he sees the kid. He drops his bags “WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!”

Kenji looks up at you, his mouth full of fried dough “Who’s the loud guy?”

Sanji points dramatically at Zoro “How could you?! You stole her away and now—now you even have a child?!”

Zoro blinks “What are you talking about? Do you know how kids are made?”

Luffy laughs “He looks just like your kid. You’re all holding hands and stuff. It’s so cute! You should make a real one!”

Sanji falls to the ground instantly “I’m dying. I’m literally dead. This is hell.”

You’re laughing too hard to speak.

Kenji, still chewing, leans over to Zoro “Are those your friends? They’re weird.”

Zoro sighs “You have no idea.”

Luffy crouches next to Kenji, nose almost touching his “Heyyy, what’s your name?”

“Kenji!”

“Cool name! You wanna be a pirate?”

Zoro grabs Luffy by the back of his vest and yanks him away “No recruiting children.”

Sanji stands back up, wiping his nose “Mon dieu… Y/N, if you ever decide you want real romance, you know where to find me.”

You smile sweetly “You’d have to fight Zoro for me first.”

Sanji turns pale, not because he’s scared but because you think of Zoro right away “…I’m good.”

Kenji tugs your sleeve again “Are they always like this?”

“Pretty much” you say with a giggle. Zoro mutters, “You get used to it.”

Even as the chaos unfolds, Zoro moves just a little closer to you. His hand brushes against yours again and Kenji, still holding your other hand, starts humming happily between bites.

After the chaos (and mild heartbreak) that was Luffy and Sanji, you wave them off with a tired smile. Sanji is still crying in the background. Luffy’s trying to steal a meat bun from someone’s cart.

“Bye, Kenji!” Luffy shouts cheerfully “Don’t forget to train so you can join my crew!”

“I won’t!” Kenji waves both hands like you’re sending off a ship.

You tug his sleeve gently “Okay, come on. Let’s keep going.”

Zoro mutters under his breath as you walk again, heading farther into the town “Out of everyone… they had to be the ones we run into.”

You smirk “Could’ve been worse.”

“No. That was the worst.”

“Even worse than running into ALL of them together?”

He gives you a sharp side-eye “Don’t push your luck.”

You giggle, swinging Kenji’s hand a little as you walk. He’s full now, calmer, but still sticking to you like glue. Zoro’s hands are back in his pockets, shoulders slightly hunched. He looks like he wants to complain, but he’s still here. That says enough.

Then, out of nowhere, Kenji tugs at your hand and looks up at you seriously “Miss Y/N? Can I call you Mama?”

You freeze. Everything around you stops. The breeze. The street noise. Even Zoro seems to pause mid-step. You blink at him “W-What?”

Kenji looks a little nervous now, like he’s not sure if he’s done something wrong “I know you’re not really… but you’re really nice, and you make me feel safe like my mama does. I miss her…”

Your throat closes. You don’t even know what to say. Tears prick at your eyes so fast you can’t stop them. One slides down your cheek before you can hide it.

You crouch down, hugging him gently, trying not to cry too hard “Kenji… I’m sure your mom misses you too. We’re gonna find her, okay? I promise.”

He nods, leaning into your hug.

Zoro is quiet behind you. For once, not a single sarcastic comment. When you glance up at him, you see that flicker in his eyes. Something soft. Something… careful. He doesn’t say anything. He just looks at you. And somehow, that silence means more than words.

You’re walking again, slowly now. Kenji hums as he walks between you and Zoro, swinging your hands. He’s more cheerful after eating, even skipping a little. It’s almost hard to believe this is the same scared little boy from earlier.

Then you hear a woman’s voice, panicked and breathless “Kenji?! Kenji!!”

All three of you turn around, a woman is running toward you, her eyes wide with worry. Her hair’s a bit messy.

Kenji gasps “Mama!!”

He lets go of both your hands and runs to her. You and Zoro stop walking, watching as he throws himself into her arms. She catches him and falls to her knees, hugging him tightly.

“Oh, thank god,” she whispers, burying her face in his shoulder “I’ve been looking everywhere, Kenji, I was so scared…”

“I’m okay, Mama!” he says brightly “I wasn’t alone!”

You and Zoro stand quietly a few steps away, watching them hold each other. Zoro crosses his arms and says nothing. But his expression is… softer now. Thoughtful.

Then, Kenji turns and grabs his mom’s hand.

“Come on! Come meet them!” he says, tugging her toward you.

She lets herself be pulled along and gives you a teary smile “You… You helped him?”

You nod “Yeah. He was alone and crying. We couldn’t just leave him.”

She presses a hand to her chest, still catching her breath “Thank you. Truly. I don’t know what I would’ve done—”

She starts reaching into a small pouch “Please, I have a little money—let me give you something.”

You shake your head quickly “Oh no, really. That’s okay. We had… a good day, actually. He’s a sweet kid.”

Kenji beams proudly beside her. Zoro’s still silent, standing with that usual lazy posture.

The woman glances at him, hesitating “Are you sure? Maybe he wants—”

Before she finishes, Zoro shrugs “Y/N did all of it by herself.”

You glance over at him. That’s not true, you both helped. But he says it like he wants to make clear that the kindness was yours. You give him a small smile.

The woman bows slightly “Thank you both again.”

You nod, just about to say goodbye when Kenji suddenly throws his arms around your waist again.

You blink “Kenji…?”

He’s crying again. Quiet, but real tears, as he mumbles “Do you… have to go?”

Your throat tightens “Hey, don’t cry… You’re with your mom now. You’re safe.”

“I know,” he says, sniffling “But I don’t want you to go. I love you… you’re my best friend.”

Tears fill your eyes instantly. You hug him back, squeezing gently, as you whisper “I love you too, Kenji, you’re really brave, you know?”

He looks up at his mom “Can she stay with us?”

Her eyes soften “Sweetheart… she has her own life and friends. But maybe one day you’ll meet again.”

He wipes his face with his sleeve, still clinging to you. Zoro turns away slightly, trying to act like he’s not watching, but his ears are red and in his chest, something warm builds, quiet and slow.

You’re so gentle. So natural with children. And for the first time… He lets the thought sit. Maybe a future like that, with you, soft like this… wouldn’t be so bad.

Eventually, you say goodbye. Kenji waves and waves until he’s out of sight. You and Zoro walk in silence for a few minutes. Then… you feel something. Zoro reaches over and takes your hand.

You blink, surprised “Zoro?”

He doesn’t look at you, eyes straight ahead, face a little pink “Don’t make a big deal out of it. Just… thought you might need it.”

You smile, squeezing his hand gently. A few more steps go by before he adds, quietly “You’d be good at it.”

“At what?” you ask.

He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly “…Being a mom.”

Your heart skips as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye “Not saying right now. Just… someday. If you wanted that.”

You stop for a second, staring at him. He’s not blushing anymore. He’s serious.

You nod, eyes soft “With you… yeah. I think I’d want that someday.”

Zoro looks away quickly, but you see the tiniest smile on his face.

You let go of his hand and he turns to look at you surprised. But then you jump and put your arms around his neck as he grabs you by your waist to steady you.

You kiss him quickly but softly while saying “I love you so much Zoro, thank you.”

He’s still surprised but asks “What are you thanking me for?”

“To think of me when you think about your future.”

He blushes and starts to look away but you catches him saying “Of course I would.”

You smile as you let go of him and then take his hand again as you swing it and walk as you’re the happiest girl in the world, with your biggest smile one and humming a little cute song.

Zoro watches you all the time with the softest smile he ever had.

── .✦ Sanji:

The sun sets behind the island’s hills, painting the sky in soft orange and purple. You can already hear music and laughter in the air. The village is buzzing with excitement.

“We’re just in time for the Moonlight Festival” Nami tells everyone, smiling as a few locals greet her.

“They want us to join?” Luffy asks, his eyes already searching for food.

“Yes,” Robin says “They’ve prepared clothes for us. It’s part of their tradition.”

You glance around. The people here are wearing bright outfits, flowing skirts, golden sashes, beads, and flowers in their hair. It looks magical.

One of the village girls walks up to you, holding a folded dress.

“For you,” she says with a kind smile “You’ll look beautiful in it.”

Sanji’s eyes narrow, already hovering at your side “She always does” he says softly, brushing a hand across your lower back.

You smile and take the dress inside a small tent to change.

When you step out, the crew is waiting. Zoro looks away with a bored expression. Usopp whistles.

But Sanji… he freezes. His face turns red in two seconds. Then an elegant nosebleed.

“Oh my god, Sanji!” you rush to him as he stumbles back, heart-shaped eyes glowing like lanterns.

“You… You can’t just walk out looking like that, mon amour,” he gasps “I was not prepared. That dress—you… your everything—!”

You laugh “You’re so dramatic.”

“I am in love,” he moans, holding a hand over his nose “And now I’m dying.”

“Save it for later, lovebirds,” Nami rolls her eyes “Let’s go! The festival’s starting!”

The streets are glowing with lanterns. Drums beat in the background. Kids are running around with flower crowns. You hold Sanji’s hand tight as you pull him through the crowd.

“Wait, wait—look!” you gasp, pointing to a stall “Caramel apples!”

Sanji chuckles “Mon amour, you know I can make you better ones. Twice as sweet. Three times as shiny.”

“Yeah, but these are festival apples,” you grin, bouncing on your heels “It’s different!”

He groans playfully but fishes some coins from his pocket “Fine. Who am I to stop you from being adorable?”

You grab the apple and take a big bite “Mmm! Okay. Yours are still better.”

He smirks “Told you.”

You two stroll past more stalls. Roasted nuts, cotton candy, fruit juice in bamboo cups… you try everything. Sanji keeps spoiling you without complaint, even if he keeps saying, “You know I could cook all of this for you, mon trésor.”

You wipe a bit of syrup off his cheek with your thumb “Yeah, but this is more fun.”

You turn a corner and freeze “Sanji!” you gasp.

“Hm?”

“There!” You point to a game stall. Behind it is a giant plushie… a round, smiling bear with soft ears and a flower crown.

Sanji squints “You want that thing?”

“Yes! It’s so cute!”

But before you can step forward, a group of small kids run up.

“We saw it first!” one of them shouts.

“No way! I’m gonna win it!” another boy says, grabbing a ball from the counter.

You look at Sanji. He cracks his knuckles and smiles “A competition, huh?”

“Winner takes the bear!” the tallest kid says.

Sanji kneels to their level, grinning “Alright, little ones. You’re on.”

Sanji throws the first ball... Miss.

“Damn it—”

The ball bounces off the edge of the target, knocking over nothing but his pride.

“Too slow, old man!” the little boy cackles and throws his own. Miss.

Sanji raises an eyebrow “Oh-ho? You think you’re better?”

“I am better!” the kid huffs, grabbing another ball. Miss again.

Sanji leans in “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Your aim is trash.”

“So is yours.”

They go back and forth for the next minute. Ball after ball. Miss after miss. Neither hits a single target. Sanji’s hair is messier now, and the kid’s cheeks are puffed in frustration.

You cross your arms and bite your lip to stop laughing. Finally, Sanji steps back, hands on his hips.

“This game is clearly rigged.”

The kid points at him “You’re just mad because you lost.”

“You lost too!” Sanji snaps back, eyes wide.

“Only ‘cause you distracted me with your loud yelling!”

They both look exhausted and full of mutual respect…and mutual failure.

You walk up between them and say, “Okay. My turn.”

Sanji blinks “Mon amour, are you sure? It’s harder than it looks—”

“I wanna try.” you say, handing him the caramel apple you’re still holding.

You pick up the ball. It’s heavier than you thought, but manageable. You narrow your eyes, pull back your arm and… You knock over all three cans. Clean.

Sanji’s jaw drops. The little boy gasps so loudly, you think he might pass out.

The game keeper just laughs and hands you the giant plushie “Well done, miss!”

You grin and hug the bear tight “I did it!”

Sanji laughs, not caring at all about being shown up “You’re amazing!” he says proudly “Absolutely perfect.”

He kisses your cheek with zero shame “My talented goddess.”

But the kid… the kid is just staring at you now. Like something huge just clicked in his little brain.

“…What?” you ask, smiling at him “You can still try again, maybe there’s another plush—”

“I love you.”

You blink “Huh?”

“I don’t know why,” he says, completely serious “But I do.”

You stand there with your plushie, speechless. Sanji snorts so hard he has to turn around to hide his laugh.

“Is it the bear?” you ask gently.

The boy shakes his head “It’s your face. And your power.”

Sanji is wheezing now “That’s a strong statement, mon petit rival.”

“I said what I said,” the kid replies firmly, hands in his pockets “If you break up with him, I’ll wait for you.”

You pat his head “Thanks, but… I don’t think that’ll happen.”

He sighs “Fine. But just know… you’re my first love now.”

Sanji finally turns around, wiping tears from his eyes “I’ve been defeated. By a child.”

You both laugh, holding hands again. You keep walking through the festival lights, one giant plush bear in your arms, and the chef at your side.

The night deepens, and the music slows down.

Soft lanterns float above the square, swaying gently in the warm breeze. They’re glowing in different colors as orange, pink, soft blue, like slow-moving stars. Couples begin dancing in the middle of the cobblestone plaza.

Sanji gently tugs your hand “Dance with me, mon amour?”

You grin and nod “Only if you don’t step on my feet.”

“I would rather die.”

He places one hand on your waist, the other holding yours with a practiced ease. His touch is warm and careful, like he’s afraid to break you. You sway together under the lanterns, the sounds of violins and laughter floating around you.

“You look beautiful in this light.” he says quietly.

You look up at him, smiling “You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true.”

You lean into him, resting your head against his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat. This moment is soft. Sweet. Just the two of you… until…

“HEY, Y/N!”

Your head jerks up. You turn. A small voice echoes through the crowd.

Sanji’s brows twitch “No.”

Walking through the legs of villagers, holding something behind his back, is that kid.

Your jaw drops “How do you know my name?”

He stops right in front of you, puffing his chest like a tiny warrior “The idiot said it like five times while we were throwing balls. ‘You’ve got this, Y/N! Knock ‘em down, Y/N!’”

You blink “Oh… yeah. That sounds like him.”

Sanji coughs “You remembered that?”

The kid pulls out what he was hiding behind his back, a delicate, glowing flower. Its petals shimmer like they’ve been dusted with stardust.

“This is for you,” the boy says, holding it out with both hands like an offering “You deserve something this pretty.”

Your heart does a little owh at the sweetness “Aww… thank you.”

You take it gently, not wanting to crush it.

Sanji, meanwhile, stares at the flower. Then at the kid. Then at you.

He chuckles lightly “How… thoughtful.”

You glance at him “You okay?”

“Oh, me? Perfectly fine,” he says with a smile that’s way too tight “Just enjoying the sight of my girlfriend being courted by an eight-year-old.”

The kid looks up at him “Nine.”

“Ah, of course. My mistake,” Sanji says, voice calm but eyes twitching “A mature gentleman.”

“Way cooler than you.” the boy mumbles.

Sanji crouches down slightly, still smiling “You want a kitchen knife to go with that flower, mon petit rival?”

You step between them, laughing “Okay, okay, enough. This is getting weird.”

The kid sighs and shrugs “I’ll just wait till you’re single. No rush.”

“There will be no waiting.” Sanji grits through his teeth.

“Time is on my side, old man.”

“SHE’S MY AGE TOO!” Sanji yells irritated.

You nearly drop the flower from laughing so hard. You pat the boy on the head again “You’re really sweet, but I’m staying with the idiot for now.”

“Forever,” Sanji corrects “She’s staying with me forever.”

“Yeah, yeah. For now…” the boy says, walking away into the lantern lights.

You turn to Sanji, still giggling “You were jealous.”

He raises a hand, dramatic as ever “I can’t believe he kept insulting me. I was not jealous. I was threatened.”

You raise an eyebrow.

He sighs “Okay. I was… mildly unsettled.”

You lean up and kiss his cheek “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

He smirks again “And you’re always cute. But please… no more nine-year-old rivals.”

The music quiets. The stalls are closing. Lanterns start floating into the sky, some by string, some released into the wind with wishes written on paper. The villagers begin gathering near the beach and hilltops.

You stretch your arms with a happy sigh, the big plushie still tucked under one arm “It’s almost time for fireworks, right?”

Sanji nods and gently takes your hand “Follow me, mon love. I found us a better spot. Private. High up. Just us.”

“Romantic?”

He grins “Always.”

He leads you up a narrow path behind the main square, through a line of trees. A few lanterns hang along the way, giving the path a warm glow. Eventually, you reach a small wooden platform, almost like an old lookout. There’s a railing, a perfect view of the sky, and just enough space for the two of you to stand side by side.

You lean against the railing, wide-eyed “This is perfect…”

Sanji steps behind you, resting his chin lightly on your shoulder “I know. Just like you.”

You snort “Cheesy.”

He kisses your temple “True.”

Just as the wind picks up slightly and you snuggle closer into his arms…“Hey!”

You both turn your heads.

It’s the kid. Again.

Sanji groans, stepping forward “Are you following us now?”

The boy crosses his arms “I think destiny wants me and Y/N together.”

Sanji points at him “She’s literally standing here with me, holding the bear I helped her win—”

“I pushed you to give up and her winning it, so technically I helped too.”

“You called me ‘trash’ and insulted me!”

“And yet… here we are.” He spreads his arms as if the universe just proved his point.

You lean on the railing, grinning like an idiot while they go at it again “I feel like I should get popcorn for this.”

The kid puffs up his chest “You’ll thank me when we’re married one day.”

“I am going to faint.” Sanji rubs his face.

You laugh softly, eyes crinkling with joy. The two of them are so dramatic in their own ways… Sanji with his poetic French curses, and the kid with his over-the-top confidence.

But then the sky explodes into light.

You gasp and rush toward the railing, hands gripping the wood. Fireworks bloom above the hills, one after another, bursts of gold, red, green, and silver painting the night. Some twinkle, some crackle, some swirl in spiral shapes like dancing stars.

“Whoa…” you whisper, completely forgetting the chaos behind you.

Then, beside you, another small gasp. You glance down. It’s the kid.

His eyes are wide. His mouth slightly open in wonder “They’re… huge.”

“Is this your first time seeing fireworks?” you ask.

He nods slowly “Yeah. They’re… kinda magical.”

You smile, your face glowing with the same light reflecting in the sky “Right?”

Behind you, Sanji watches the two of you from a few steps back.

You’re both standing at the railing, heads tilted up, eyes full of wonder, soft smiles on your faces. The flower the kid gave you is tucked in your hair. The bear still in your arms. And somehow, in that one moment, you and the kid… look similar.

Same joy. Same spark. Same heart.

Sanji feels something shift in his chest. Not jealousy. Not annoyance. Something deeper. Warmer.

He pictures this moment again, but years in the future. You, at the railing, holding a small hand. Your child’s hand.

Their eyes lighting up like yours. That same smile. That same awe. And he’s there too, arms around both of you. His future, clear as the fireworks above.

You turn around and catch his gaze “Sanji?”

He blinks and smiles softly “Sorry. Just… thinking about how lucky I am.”

You raise an eyebrow “Because we won the bear?”

“No,” he says, stepping forward to join you at the railing “Because I get to watch you fall in love with everything.”

You rest your head on his shoulder again, your free hand finding his.

“With me?” The kid says.

“NO! DROP IT!” Sanji yells at him but then they both smile and keep watching the fireworks as they keep blooming. And Sanji is already planning forever.

The last firework bursts in a shower of silver and gold, lingering like a sparkler in the night sky. Then silence.

Soft cheers rise from the village below. The glow fades, lanterns flickering low. The magic of the moment hangs in the air for just a little longer, like it doesn’t want to end.

You sigh, still holding Sanji’s hand “That was perfect…”

Next to you, the kid is still staring at the sky. But the fireworks are gone now, long finished. Yet he doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. His eyes are wide, his mouth just barely open. He looks like he’s still inside that wonder.

You smile at him “Hey… by the way… What’s your name?”

He blinks, like he’s waking up from a dream “Oh. It’s Tama.”

“Nice to meet you, Tama.” You kneel down a bit so you’re closer to his height “What do you wanna be when you grow up?”

Without hesitation “A pirate.”

You laugh softly “Really?”

He nods, proud “A brave one. With a big ship. I’ll visit all the islands with weird animals and floating rocks and treasure.”

Sanji smirks beside you, hands in his pockets “Then I guess we’ll keep being rivals even out at sea, huh?”

Tama gives him a sharp side-eye “I’ll have to steal y/n from you and out-pirate you.”

Sanji grins “Try me, mon petit.”

You giggle and ruffle Tama’s hair gently “Well, I hope we meet again when you’re out there chasing dreams.”

Tama glances up at you “What about you? What do you want to be?”

You pause. It’s not something you really think about. You look over at Sanji… messy blond hair, gentle smile, the way he’s still looking at you like the stars are in your eyes instead of the sky.

You shrug “I don’t care what I become. I just want to be with Sanji forever.”

Sanji freezes for a moment.

Then, he lets out a quiet breath, like someone just handed him the whole world.

His voice is soft “You’ll never have to wish for that, mon amour. I’m not going anywhere.”

Tama watches you both. He’s quiet. No more smug grins or snappy lines.

Then, slowly, he nods. He tucks his hands into his pockets and gives you a small smile, real and warm “Then it’s good the idiot is so persistent.”

Sanji raises an eyebrow “Hey—”

Tama doesn’t look at him. He’s looking at you “You’re really happy. I can tell.” His voice is calm now, like something inside him understands something bigger “So… I’m okay with it.”

Your heart softens “Thank you, Tama.”

Then, without fully thinking, you smile even wider and say, “Sanji, I hope our future baby is going to be like him.”

Tama blinks, clearly unsure what to say to that. Maybe even a little embarrassed. But he nods slowly, lips pressing together in a shy smile.

Sanji stops breathing.

He stares at you, completely still, as if the fireworks just restarted behind his eyes. That sentence… so casual, so soft… hit harder than anything tonight. Our future baby...

You’re thinking about it. About a future. About family. And not just that. You’re thinking about it with him. His heart squeezes in his chest.

You’re here, in his arms. You’re in love. And you’re imagining a child with his smile and your eyes, running around somewhere under the same stars.

You turn and see the look in Sanji’s eyes.

He’s smiling, but there’s something deeper behind it. Something full. Something that says, I heard that.

You just smile back, knowing he doesn’t need to say a word.

Tama shrugs and turns around “Don’t get too comfy though. I’ll be cooler than him someday.”

Sanji puts an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close “We’ll be cheering for you… maybe.”

Tama waves over his shoulder, heading back toward the village, lantern light flickering around him.

You and Sanji stay a little longer at the lookout, arms wrapped around each other, the flower still in your hair, and the last warmth of the fireworks still in your hearts.

The festival is over. But something even better stayed behind with you…

Love. Peace. And the promise of forever.

── .✦ Law:

The sea is calm. The deck is quiet. You wipe your hands with a towel and step out of the infirmary for some air. A peaceful day. For once.

“GUYS! GUYS!! I’m back!!”

Bepo’s voice booms from the ramp. You glance over, blinking. Law appears from the hallway behind you, arms crossed and already frowning. Penguin and Shachi pop their heads out of the engine room.

“Why are you yelling?” Law asks, sharp.

“I got everything!” Bepo shouts, jogging up “But also—uh—”

He’s carrying something. No. Someone. It’s a kid.

A little girl, maybe five years old, wrapped in one of Bepo’s spare coats. Her hair’s messy, face pale. No shoes. She looks completely terrified.

Shachi stares “That’s a child.”

“Bepo,” Law growls “You didn’t…”

“I had to!” Bepo pleads “She was hiding behind crates in the market. All alone. People walked right past her. Like she wasn’t even there!”

“So you picked her up and brought her here?!” Law’s tone spikes.

“I couldn’t leave her! I asked around, but no one knew her. No one cared! She wouldn’t talk to anyone but me!”

The girl looks around fast… strangers, loud voices, sharp tones. She panics.

Her eyes lock on you, maybe because you’re the only woman here at the moment, maybe because you’re not yelling, and suddenly she jumps out of Bepo’s arms.

“Wait—!” Bepo yells.

Too late. She runs straight to you and throws her arms around your waist, hugging you like her life depends on it.

You freeze.

“Woah—hey, hey,” you say softly, instinct kicking in. You crouch down, hands gentle on her arms “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

She buries her face in your chest and doesn’t say a word. Everyone is staring.

“Y/N,” Law says, voice low “Do you know her?”

You shake your head “Never seen her before.”

“Then why is she hugging you like that?” Penguin asks, confused.

You rub her back carefully “She’s scared. She saw someone safe. That’s all.”

Law narrows his eyes, crouching beside you.

“Kid,” he says quietly, “what’s your name?”

“…Mimi.” she whispers.

“How old are you, Mimi?”

She holds up five fingers without looking up.

“Do you know where your parents are?”

She shakes her head.

“Do you remember anything?”

She shrugs.

Law stands up “Fantastic.”

“I don’t get it,” Shachi says “Why would she run to Y/N? Just randomly?”

“She doesn’t know me,” you say, still holding Mimi gently “She was just scared.”

“She’s still shaking,” Bepo murmurs “I think she really was in danger.”

Law opens his mouth to reply, but footsteps thunder up from below deck.

“Ikkaku!” Penguin says as she appears, out of breath.

“Captain!” she gasps, holding up a tablet “Emergency Marine alert. I just picked it up from the city’s comms.”

“What kind of alert?” Law asks, tone serious.

She flips the screen around “They’re searching for a missing child. Classified level. No name. No photo. Just this—”

She swipes again. A blurry snail-cam image. It’s Mimi. Wearing that same coat.

“…Shit.” Law mutters.

Everyone stares at the screen.

“Why are the Marines looking for a five-year-old?” Shachi asks, stunned.

“Classified level? That’s not normal” Penguin adds.

Ikkaku reads off the report “Orders are to retrieve the child alive. No reason listed. But every local base is on alert. They think pirates might have taken her.”

Mimi stiffens. She presses closer to you.

“…Bad men,” she whispers “Mama said they’d come…”

“Mimi,” you say softly, “do you know who the bad men are?”

She shakes her head quickly “The marines… that I had to run. Mama said… find someone kind. Someone who felt safe.”

She looks up at you then. Big, frightened eyes.

You smile gently “You found me, don’t worry.”

Law steps beside you, staring down at the kid. His hand brushes yours.

“Y/N,” he says quietly, “She can’t stay on deck.”

You nod.

“She stays below, for now” Law says, turning to the crew “And no one talks about her. Not a word. We figure this out before the Marines come knocking.”

Bepo lets out a breath “Thank you, Captain.”

Law glances back at you and Mimi “Don’t thank me yet. This is trouble.”

“She’s just a kid,” you murmur, carrying her gently as you stand “We’ll protect her.”

Law’s voice softens “Yeah. We will.”

The door closes behind you both with a quiet click. The hallway outside Law’s quarters is silent now. You and Law stand inside the dimly lit room, away from the crew, away from Mimi.

He leans against the desk, arms folded, hat on the surface next to him. His jaw is tight. You’re pacing.

“She’s five, Law,” you say “Five. And terrified. You saw her face.”

“I know what I saw,” he replies, coldly calm “But she’s not just any kid, Y/N. She’s being hunted by the Marines. That’s not normal.”

“She didn’t ask to be hunted,” you shoot back “She didn’t choose any of this!”

“You think I don’t know that?” His voice rises slightly.

You stop pacing “Then why are you looking at her like she’s a problem?”

He straightens “Because right now? She is. She’s a risk. For all of us.”

You flinch.

“Oh, great,” you say, sarcasm slipping in “Glad to know your heart’s still functioning.”

His eyes narrow “Don’t twist my words.”

“I’m not twisting anything! You’re acting like she’s a ticking time bomb!”

“I’m being realistic!” he snaps “You always do this—take in strays without thinking!”

You freeze. The words echo. You always do this.

Your chest tightens “Then is that what I am to you?” you whisper “Some stray you took in?”

Law’s expression shifts instantly “What? No—”

You shake your head, stepping back, voice low and bitter “Forget it. I’m done.”

He moves toward you “Y/N, wait—”

“No,” you say, turning for the door “You wanted to be realistic? Fine. Be alone with your logic. I’m going to be with the actual human being we rescued.”

You slam the door on your way out.

You sit cross-legged on the floor of the small guest room, paper and colored pencils spread out between you and Mimi. She holds a red pencil in her small hand, tongue poking out a little as she focuses hard on drawing something.

You force yourself to smile “That’s a very good cat, Mimi.”

“It’s you” she says, showing you proudly.

You laugh gently “Oh! I’m the cat?”

She nods “You were soft when I hugged you.”

You pause “That’s… really sweet, actually.”

She looks up at you “Are you mad?”

Your smile fades “Why would you think that?”

“You left fast. Like Mama did… when she was mad.”

Ouch.

You set your pencil down and reach out, tucking her hair behind her ear “I’m not mad at you, I promise.”

“Then who?”

You sigh “Just… someone I love. We said some things we didn’t mean.”

She nods like she gets it “Mama and Papa did that too. Then they’d be quiet for a while. But after, they hugged a lot.”

You smile faintly “Maybe we’ll get there.”

Mimi turns back to her paper “Do you think my Mama’s okay?”

Your heart aches “I hope so, Mimi. I really do.”

You pick up a blue pencil and draw beside her in silence for a while. The sound of coloring fills the small room. For a little while, it’s peaceful again.

Even if your chest still burns with anger and something else you don’t want to admit yet. Not hurt. Just… disappointed.

The hallway outside the guest room is quiet now.

Right now, it’s just you and Mimi, surrounded by colored pencils and messy drawings. She laughs when your stick figure ends up with five arms. You giggle along, your mood slowly softening.

“Look!” she says proudly, holding up her latest masterpiece. It’s her, you, and what might be Bepo if you squint. You’ve all got huge smiles and stars around your heads.

“That’s amazing,” you say, genuinely impressed “Did you make me taller than Bepo?”

She nods “Because you’re strong.”

Your heart actually hurts a little at that “You’re the strong one, Mimi.”

She looks up at you, eyes wide and happy. It’s the first time she’s looked this light since she came aboard. Something warm blooms in your chest. You don’t say it aloud, but this feels… right.

She deserves moments like this. You both do.

There’s a soft knock at the doorframe. You turn and Law stands there. He doesn’t say anything right away. Just… watches.

You see his eyes flick to Mimi, then back to you. The scene freezes him. Like he’s seeing something he wasn’t ready for. Like he’s seeing you with a child in your lap, laughing, gentle, bright. Like family.

You look away first. Mimi doesn’t notice. She’s too busy coloring in the sky purple.

Law jerks his head toward the hallway, silently asking for a word. You hesitate.

Then slowly stand up, brushing your hands off “I’ll be right back, okay?” you whisper to Mimi.

“Okay.” she says without looking up.

You follow Law out into the hall. The door closes behind you, soft and careful. He runs a hand through his hair. He looks… tired. And guilty.

“I deserved everything you said earlier” he starts.

You don’t speak yet.

“I was angry. Not at you. At the situation. At how helpless it made me feel. It reminds me a lot of when… nevermind.”

Still, you wait.

“I wanted to do something. So I called in favors. Checked restricted comms. Dug deep.”

You lift your eyes to meet his “And?”

“I found out who her mother was,” he says “They were living on the outskirts of a Marine-controlled zone. Poor. Invisible. Perfect targets.”

Your throat tightens.

“She died,” Law continues “A week ago. Protecting Mimi. Marines were already closing in. Her mother fought back alone. Got her daughter away. Then…”

He trails off.

You stare “…Mimi saw that happen?”

He nods “But I think she doesn’t remember it. Or won’t. Trauma like that… it can block memories completely. Especially in kids.”

Your back presses to the wall “She… thinks her mom is still out there.”

“I know,” he says quietly “I was hoping she was. I wanted to go find her. Bring her here. Give Mimi the ending she deserved.”

You press your hands to your face “God…”

Law steps closer “I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure.”

You lower your hands slowly, voice shaking “You thought I’d fall apart?”

“No,” he says “I thought I would.”

That makes you look at him.

“I saw you with her just now,” he says “And I thought… maybe we could give her something close to a family. Not perfect. Not planned. But something.”

Silence hangs heavy for a second.

“I’m sorry,” he says again “For the fight. For what I said.”

You nod slowly “I was mad. But I never stopped trusting you.”

He reaches for your hand. You let him take it.

“She’s all alone now” you whisper.

“Not if we stay” he says.

You squeeze his fingers “I’m not going anywhere.”

It’s been three months since Mimi came aboard. She doesn’t cry at night anymore. She doesn’t flinch when someone raises their voice.

She laughs. Loudly. She steals snacks with Penguin, watches Shachi build models, draws on Bepo’s fur while he naps, and sometimes, when she’s really sleepy, she crawls into your bed without saying a word and snuggles between you and Law.

You and Law never talk about it, and neither does the crew, but everyone sees the way Mimi holds your hand like it’s the most normal thing in the world. The way Law makes sure she eats, takes her medicine, wears a coat when it’s cold, even when he grumbles about it. The way her drawings now always have three people in them.

You, her, and Law.

She knows the truth now. She remembers it all… her mother, the chase, the moment she lost her, the fear. It came back slowly, in pieces, but she never fell apart.

She held on. To you. To him. And now it’s time.

You found a safe place for her, a quiet island far from Marine eyes. A good family who knew her mother once, who wants to care for Mimi like their own. A home with books, and warm food, and other children. It’s the best chance she’ll ever get.

She knows it. She understands.

But even understanding doesn’t make it easy.

On the third-to-last day, you find Mimi sitting with Bepo in the garden space at the top of the sub. She’s holding her sketchbook.

“Hey,” you say gently, sitting down beside her “Can I see what you’re drawing?”

She turns the book around. It’s you and Law again… only this time, she’s drawn herself in the middle, holding both your hands. Above you is a sun with a smiling face.

Your chest aches.

“I like when we’re together.” she says, matter-of-fact.

“I do too.”

She leans against your arm “You’re not mad, right? That I said yes to going?”

You pause “Never. Mimi, we want you to be safe. That’s what matters most.”

She goes quiet for a second “But I’ll still miss you. A lot.”

You stroke her hair softly ���I’ll miss you too. Every day.”

She looks up “Do you think Captain Law will miss me?”

You smile “I know he will.”

That night, Law finds you alone in the infirmary, pretending to organize the medical supplies. He leans against the doorway, arms crossed.

“You’re avoiding me” he says.

“No I’m not” you lie instantly.

“Y/N.”

You sigh and sit down on the cot “I just… don’t know how to say goodbye.”

He walks in, quiet, and sits beside you “You don’t have to.”

You glance at him.

“We’ll find a way to see her again,” he says “Even if it’s just from a distance. I promise.”

Your eyes sting “She’s the best thing that ever happened to this ship.”

He nods “She’s one of the best things that ever happened to me.”

You look at him, surprised.

“I didn’t think I could… do this,” he says “Feel like this. But she made me believe in something again. She made me remember if Corazon and even understand him more now.”

You reach out and take his hand “She made us a family, didn’t she?”

Law squeezes your hand gently.

“And we’ll let her go,” he says “Because that’s what family does. We protect them. Even when it hurts.”

The crew stands in a quiet line on the deck.

Bepo is the first to kneel down, huge paws gentle as he hugs Mimi tightly.

“Don’t forget me” he says, voice shaking.

“I could never.” she whispers, burying her face in his fur.

Penguin gives her a pack of candy and awkwardly pats her head “Eat this when you miss us, okay?”

Shachi kneels next “We’ll miss you, shrimp. Stay awesome.”

Ikkaku lifts Mimi’s little hand and presses a friendship bracelet into her palm “For luck” she says, smiling even though her eyes are red.

Everyone says their goodbyes. Everyone hugs her.

You stand back, next to Law, holding your breath. Watching. Trying to stay calm. But your chest feels tight. Your hands shake and Law, quiet and steady beside you, notices. He doesn’t say anything. He just reaches out and takes your hand in his. Warm, grounding. Solid.

You glance down, surprised. He never does this in front of the crew. Your fingers curl around his slowly. It helps. You’re grateful.

Mimi turns at last and walks up to you both. Her steps are slower now. Her smile is gone. And when she reaches you, she breaks.

Her small arms wrap around your waist so hard it knocks the air out of you “I don’t wanna go.” she sobs.

You drop to your knees and hold her, tears falling fast “I know, baby. I know.”

“I wanna stay with you. And Law. And Bepo and everyone. I don’t want a new house.”

“I know. But this is the safest place. It’s what your mama wanted. And we’ll still love you. Always.”

She shakes her head, crying harder. You don’t want to let go. You really, really don’t. And Law… he just stands there, quiet, one hand resting gently on your back as you cry into Mimi’s hair.

He doesn’t say anything, but you know he’s there. Holding you up in the way he always does.

When you finally pull away, your eyes meet his and he gives you the smallest nod. You nod back.

It’s time. Mimi turns to him slowly.

She throws her arms around his legs without a word. Law stiffens.

Then, very awkwardly, he kneels and hugs her back. His movements are a little stiff, unsure, but he doesn’t let go too quickly.

“I’m gonna miss you, Captain Law” she mumbles.

“…I’ll miss you too.” he says, voice low.

You blink. You’ve never heard him say that out loud.

When she lets go, her eyes are red and puffy, but she wipes them on her sleeve like a little soldier. Then she walks with the woman who came to get her, toward the small transport boat.

But just before she steps down the ramp, she stops, turns around, wipes her face and yells, loud as ever “HEY!”

Everyone jumps.

“If you ever give me a little brother or sister,” she says proudly, “I better get to meet them! I’ll be the best big sister in the world!”

Dead silence. Your jaw drops. Law’s eyes widen just slightly.

The crew turns to look at you both and absolutely loses it.

Penguin snorts. Shachi wheezes. Ikkaku starts clapping. Even Bepo chuckles behind a paw.

You and Law look in opposite directions at the same time, completely red-faced, avoiding each other’s eyes like it’s life or death.

“I… what…” you stammer.

“I didn’t…” Law mutters.

Mimi waves from the ramp, beaming “BYEEEE!”

And with that… she’s gone. Leaving behind stunned silence, a warm sea breeze and a very awkward question neither of you has ever asked before.

The door to Law’s studio closes behind you with a soft click. The sound of laughter still echoes faintly down the hall as the crew keeps joking about Mimi’s parting gift.

You and Law don’t say a word.

You wave a hand dismissively toward the corridor like go away, and Law rubs his forehead in quiet frustration as you both walk deeper into the room.

You drop onto the old sofa with a dramatic sigh. Your legs flop over the side “That kid really knows how to drop a bomb” you mumble into a pillow.

Law says nothing. He just walks toward his desk and sits down heavily, glancing at a stack of papers that definitely aren’t important right now.

“…So…” he says.

You raise an eyebrow, still hiding in the couch.

He clears his throat “Have you ever… uh. Thought about… you know.”

You peek at him “About what.”

He doesn’t look at you “A kid. Of your own.”

You squint “Why are you talking like that? You sound like Bepo when he ate spoiled mochi.”

He shoots you a look and you laugh, then immediately groan and hide your face in your hands.

“Oh god, I can’t believe we’re actually talking about this.”

“You didn’t answer” he says.

You peek through your fingers at him “Did you think about it before?”

He shrugs one shoulder “No. Not seriously.”

He stands up and walks over. He kneels in front of you and gently pulls your hands away from your face, exposing your cheeks and all the heat blooming in them.

His voice is soft “But now… I don’t hate the idea.”

Your heart skips. Your mouth opens and for once, no teasing comes out. Just a quiet little truth.

“…Same,” you say “If it’s with you.”

His ears go red. He clears his throat again, standing up abruptly like you just slapped him with a compliment.

“Don’t say stuff like that so easily” he mutters.

You laugh, covering your own red cheeks again “You started it!”

He turns back to his desk, muttering something under his breath.

You’re not sure what he’s thinking. But his shoulders relax a little while his hand lingers on the edge of his chair, like maybe he’s imagining what another little voice in this room might sound like someday.

── .✦ Shanks:

The sun is warm on your shoulders. The smell of grilled fish, sea salt, and cheap beer fills the open-air restaurant. You’re sitting beside Shanks, your legs draped over his lap, one arm around his broad shoulders. He’s laughing loud, one hand resting on your thigh, a bottle in the other.

The Red-Haired Pirates are noisy,talking with full mouths, yelling jokes across the table, getting into friendly fights over who gets the last crab claw.

You’re smiling, head leaning against Shanks’ shoulder, completely relaxed. Then you notice a woman, maybe in her twenties, carrying a small kid, probably two or three years old, on her hip. She’s standing near the entrance, eyes scanning the place fast, like she’s searching for someone. Her brows are drawn tight, lips pressed together.

“Shanks…” you murmur, nudging him with your elbow.

He follows your gaze.

She spots you. Her eyes go wide with something like hope. She walks fast toward your table, clutching the child tighter, muttering “excuse me” as she passes the crew. The little one, a girl, blinks up at everyone with big sleepy eyes. She stops right in front of you.

“Hi,” she says, out of breath “I—Sorry to bother you. I know who you are. You’re Shanks’ crew, right?”

You blink “Uh, yeah. That’s us.”

The woman shifts her weight, bouncing the kid gently “I know this is weird. Really weird. But I—I need help.”

Shanks straightens a little beside you. His arm slides behind your back but he stays quiet, letting you speak first.

“What kind of help?” you ask slowly, looking from the kid to her.

“My babysitter canceled last minute. I’m already late for work—I’ll lose my job if I don’t show up. It’s only for a few hours. Please,” she pleads “I don’t know anyone on this island, and you… well, I’ve seen you in the papers. You’re not bad people.”

You open your mouth to answer, then close it.

The little girl is chewing on her own shirt, blinking at you with big brown eyes. Her cheeks are flushed. Her hair’s tied up in a tiny puff.

You glance at Shanks. He’s watching you with that gentle smile of his. His eyes are soft. He doesn’t say anything, he just squeezes your hip lightly, like he’s telling you, Your choice.

“I don’t know anything about kids.” you say, voice low, nervous.

“You’ll be fine,” the woman says quickly “She’s easy. Doesn’t cry much. Her name’s Emi.”

The little girl makes a tiny sound, like she’s trying to say something but decides against it.

You look at Shanks again. He smiles wider.

“I’ll help you,” you say finally, sighing “Only for a few hours.”

“Thank you, thank you so much.” the woman breathes. She kisses the kid’s forehead and whispers something into her ear. Then she hands her over to you.

The moment Emi’s in your arms, she goes still. Warm and small. A little heavy. She smells like soap and bananas.

The woman gives you her name, a quick “I’ll be back before sunset.” and then she’s gone.

You sit there frozen. Shanks looks down at Emi in your lap. Then back up at you.

“You look terrified.” he says, chuckling.

“I am terrified.” you whisper.

“Want me to hold her?”

You shake your head slowly “No… I think I got this.”

Then Emi sneezes on your chest.

“Okay,” you groan “Maybe not.”

Shanks is already laughing.

At first, Emi just… sits there. On your lap. Quiet, blinking, nose still a little runny. She doesn’t cry. Doesn’t move much either. Just holds a tiny stuffed rabbit in one hand and sucks her thumb with the other.

You’re stiff as a mast. Shanks drapes his arm around your shoulders, whispering in your ear, “You’re holding her like she’s a bomb.”

“I’ve held swords with more confidence...” you mutter back.

He laughs, soft and deep, and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear “Try putting her on the bench next to you. Let her get used to everyone.”

You do. Emi shifts to sit beside you, rabbit clutched to her chest. She peeks around the table. The crew watches her like she’s a sea monster that just learned to smile.

“Hi, Emi!” Lucky Roux waves with a toothy grin “Wanna try some pineapple?”

She buries her face in your side.

Yasopp chuckles “You sure she’s not scared of you, Y/N?”

“She should be.” you say dryly.

But over time, it changes. Slowly. Emi starts pointing at things on the table. A shrimp. A spoon. A shiny gold coin someone dropped. You tell her the names. You offer her a piece of soft bread, and she takes it with two hands like it’s a treasure.

An hour later, you’re wiping jam off her chin with a napkin and helping her clap to Benn’s bad humming of a lullaby tune. She giggles when you make a fish face at her. You giggle back. And Shanks is quiet. He watches.

Not in a smug or teasing way. He’s not smirking. He’s not laughing with the others when Yasopp says, “Look at this! Y/N’s got the mom vibe going strong!”

He just… looks.

You glance at him and find his jaw a little tight. His drink untouched. His gaze heavy on you and the child. Like he’s thinking hard about something he doesn’t want to say out loud.

“Captain?” you ask softly.

He blinks, like he’s been pulled out of somewhere far away “Yeah?”

“You okay?”

He nods. Too fast.

Roux leans over with a grin “Hey, Shanks. You gonna put a ring on it if she starts popping out mini Shank’s?”

Everyone laughs.

You feel your face heat up, heart thudding a little “Oh my God—can you all shut up?”

“I want to marry her.” Shanks says suddenly.

Silence. Everyone stares.

You slowly turn to him “What?”

He meets your eyes. His voice is even, but his expression is… different. Calm on the surface, but his eyes are darker than usual “If she wanted that too. Yeah.”

You feel Emi rest her head on your arm, yawning, rabbit smushed between her face and your side.

You’re not sure what to say. The crew fumbles between teasing and trying not to look too shocked.

Shanks finally looks away, picking up his drink again.

Benn watches him for a long second. Then quietly says, “Alright, alright. Let’s not scare the kid, huh?”

And just like that, the noise starts up again. Jokes. Laughter. Loud plates. Big bites.

But Shanks doesn’t joke anymore, and you don’t miss the way he keeps looking at you like there’s something he’s not saying. Something that makes your heart beat a little faster.

Then everything fall falls apart when Emi gets bored.

One minute she’s snuggled against you, soft and sleepy, her rabbit tucked under her chin. The next she’s on her feet, running full speed down the middle of the open-air tavern, arms flapping like wings.

“EMI!” you shout, scrambling to follow her.

Your drink spills. A spoon clatters to the ground. Shanks laughs under his breath and gets up with you, already moving.

She darts under a table where two drunk fishermen are playing cards, crawls past their feet like some kind of tiny demon, and pops up between a tray of grilled squid and a candle.

“I got her!” Yasopp calls out, lunging, but Emi ducks and keeps running, laughing wildly now, barefoot and fast.

“She’s gone feral!” Lucky Roux howls.

“Shanks!” you bark, spinning around helplessly “Stop laughing and HELP!”

He grins, but there’s warmth in his eyes as he moves quickly, circling the tables “Aye aye, sweetheart.”

You try one side, he takes the other.

“Emi,” he says, crouching low, voice gentle, like he’s speaking to a scared animal “Hey, baby girl. Wanna play a game? It’s called Freeze. Can you freeze?”

She stops. Looks at him. Wobbles on her feet.

You sneak up behind.

“Gotcha!” you grab her mid-spin, lifting her up like a sack of potatoes.

She laughs and squeals, legs kicking.

“She’s a slippery one.” you mutter, holding her close, out of breath.

“I like her spirit,” Shanks says, grinning as he brushes a strand of hair from your face “She reminds me of you.”

You squint at him “You’re not funny.”

The crew starts clapping. Yasopp whistles. Roux raises his mug “Now that’s a team, huh? Look at them. Mom and Dad of the year.”

“Oh, please—” you start, but Shanks just reaches for Emi’s little hand and gives it a squeeze.

“Teamwork, right?” he says softly to her.

She nods. Then sneezes again. Right into his chest.

You burst out laughing this time and say “That’s karma.”

He wipes it off with a napkin like it’s nothing.

You sit back down together, Emi now curled in your lap again, finally tired. Shanks stays close. Not just beside you but with you. Helping. Watching. Smiling softly when Emi dozes off. But he’s still quiet. More quiet than usual.

Your eyes keep drifting to him. The way he’s looking at the girl. The little frown he doesn’t even know he has. The way his hand rests on her back like he’s done it a hundred times before.

He used to be like this with Uta. And Luffy, too. Soft. Present. Gentle.

You haven’t seen that part of him in a long time. You missed it.

“You okay?” you ask under your breath, while the crew starts arguing over dessert.

He doesn’t answer right away.

Then finally, “Yeah.”

You stare at him a little longer “Are you lying to me?”

He smiles, but it’s not the usual cocky grin. It’s smaller. Tired.

“I’m not sure what I’m feeling,” he admits “Just… thinking, I guess.”

You squeeze his hand “About what?”

He shrugs, looking down at Emi “About a lot of things.”

And now you are quiet, because something in your chest shifts. Soft. Strange. Familiar.

Maybe it’s the way he looks at you, like you’ve already given him something he thought he’d never have again. Or maybe it’s the way it suddenly feels… real.

You. Him. And this small, chaotic moment that makes everything else disappear.

The sun starts to dip, painting the sky in gold and peach.

You’re still at the tavern, Emi snoring softly on your shoulder, her little fingers tangled in your hair. Shanks sits beside you, quiet. His arm rests behind you, not touching, just there.

And then she returns. The woman bursts through the crowd, her apron flying, face flushed with panic. The moment she sees you, she stops, hands over her heart like she might collapse.

“Oh my god—thank you. Thank you so much,” she breathes, almost crying as she rushes to you “I’m so sorry I took so long. I owe you my life.”

You wave a hand gently “It’s okay. Really. She was good. A little fast—like, sprint-across-the-rooftops fast—but… I had fun.”

Emi stirs and opens her eyes.

“Hi, baby.” the mother coos, arms outstretched. The little girl shifts toward her sleepily, and you pass her over with care. For a second, Emi resists, her hand still reaching for your shirt.

Your heart squeezes a little.

“Thank you again,” the woman says, eyes filled with real gratitude “If you’re ever on this island again, please come find us. I mean it.”

You smile, brushing some crumbs off your lap “Of course. Be safe.”

You watch them go, mother holding daughter close, disappearing into the market crowd. And then it’s just… quiet. Too quiet.

The crew starts packing up, joking softly, but there’s a change in the air. A stillness you don’t like. You look at Shanks.

He’s already looking at you.

Not grinning. Not teasing.

Just watching you with that faraway softness in his eyes, like you’re a slow dream he doesn’t want to wake up from. Like maybe, for a second, he saw something more than just this moment.

You reach for his hand and lace your fingers through his.

He squeezes back but doesn’t say anything.

The walk to the ship is slow. The crew’s laughing again, arguing about who drank the most, but it’s like the volume’s been turned down. You and Shanks trail behind.

Still no words. Not one.

That night, the sea’s calm. The stars are out. You’re both in your cabin, door closed, boots off.

You lie on your shared bed, watching him stand at the window, shirt half unbuttoned, red hair catching the moonlight, and you’ve had enough. You sit up.

“Alright, Red,” you say, crossing your arms “What’s going on in that dumb, beautiful head of yours?”

He looks over his shoulder, startled “What?”

“You’ve been quiet ever since Emi left. You’ve said maybe ten words total. And I know you. That means you’re thinking. Hard.”

He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck “Maybe I’m just tired.”

“Nope.” You crawl across the bed toward him, poke his side “Try again.”

He sighs “It’s… complicated.”

“So is your face, and I still look at it every day. Try me.”

That gets a small laugh out of him.

You press your forehead to his back “You don’t have to hold things in with me, Shanks. Not the serious stuff. Not the scary stuff. Especially not the stuff that makes your eyes look like that.”

He turns slowly, leaning against the window. You slide your arms around his waist and rest your head on his chest. He wraps his arms around you too, finally. Breathing in.

“Seeing you with her,” he says softly “With Emi.”

You wait.

“I kept thinking about Uta. About Luffy. About how fast it all went. How I blinked and they weren’t mine to hold anymore.”

You don’t speak. Just hold him tighter.

“And then… I saw you. Just being there. Caring for this tiny stranger like it was nothing. Laughing with her. Holding her. And something in me just… ached.”

You tilt your head up “Ached how?”

He looks down at you, eyes serious now “Like I wanted that with you. And I didn’t even know how much until I saw it.”

The words settle deep inside you.

“You’d be a good father.” you whisper.

“You’d be the best mother.” he says back instantly.

Silence again, but this time it’s full. Of possibilities. Of truths unsaid until now.

“I didn’t say anything,” Shanks adds, brushing a hand through your hair, “because I don’t want you to think I expect that from you. Or that I’m pushing it. I just… couldn’t stop seeing it.”

You lean in and kiss him slow. No rush. No pressure. Just soft and sure.

When you pull away, your voice is warm and quiet “Then keep seeing it. I don’t mind.”

You kiss him. Long, soft, deep.

The kind of kiss that says more than either of you can find the words for. His hands settle on your waist, grounding you, holding you like you might drift away if he lets go. And when you finally break apart, you stay close. Forehead to forehead. Breathing the same air.

Now it’s your turn. You exhale shakily “I always saw you with Uta. And Luffy. The way you held them, talked to them, made them laugh… the way they looked at you.”

Shanks closes his eyes, lips pressed together.

“I used to watch from the deck,” you continue softly, “and I’d think… that. I want that with him. Our own little chaos. Our own quiet moments. Our own family.”

His grip on you tightens just a little. His thumb strokes your hip, slowly.

“I never said anything,” you admit, voice quieter now “Because I thought… maybe you already had your turn. Maybe being a dad again wasn’t something you wanted. Like, maybe Uta and even Luffy were your ‘once in a lifetime’. And I didn’t want to be selfish.”

Shanks pulls back just enough to look at you fully, eyes wide, voice rough “Selfish? Y/N… You have no idea how wrong you are.”

You blink.

He cups your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek “If anything, I was scared you didn’t want that. I never wanted to put that weight on you. My name. My crew. My life.”

You both laugh a little, soft and breathless. And then he says it “I’d love to see a little you run around the ship.”

Your heart does a full spin in your chest. You both collapse back onto the bed, side by side, hands tangled together, staring at the ceiling like it holds the future in its stars.

“I think she’d be loud.” you say, smiling to yourself.

“She?” Shanks grins “You’re already picking sides?”

“I just know. She’d talk back to Benn by the time she could crawl.”

“She’d steal Yasopp’s sake and blame it on Lucky Roux.”

“She’d steal your cape and wear it like a dress.”

“She’d make the whole crew bow to her by age four.”

You laugh. He laughs too. Your fingers tighten around his.

“She’d be soft like you,” he adds suddenly, voice lower now “Kind. But dangerous.”

You glance over at him “She’d be brave like you. Wild, loyal, always smiling.”

He sighs, almost dreamily “I can already hear her little feet running on the deck.”

“And your big voice yelling ‘don’t climb the cannon!’”

You both break into giggles and then silence again, but this time, it’s wrapped in warmth, in hope.

Shanks turns his head to look at you. You’re already looking at him.

“I mean…” he says slowly, raising one eyebrow, “we could start working on that little Y/N… like… right now.”

You gasp “Shanks!”

He smirks wickedly “What? I’m just saying. We’re both here. The ship’s quiet. The moon looks nice. You’re cute. I’m cute. It’s called destiny.”

You snort “You’re impossible—ah!”

He attacks, fingers darting to your sides, tickling, making you laugh and squirm under him.

“Shanks! Stop!”

“Never!” he grins, pinning you lightly with his weight “You’re stuck now. You told me your secrets. I told you mine. That makes us legally married in pirate law.”

You laugh until your cheeks hurt. You wiggle, but he’s strong, gentle, always careful. And then you stop moving. So does he.

Your eyes meet again. Closer now. Breath mingling.

That softness returns. Like a wave pulling you under, not scary. Just deep. Full of something quiet and forever.

You reach up and brush his hair behind his ear.

He leans into your touch.

“Hey,” you whisper “I love you.”

“I know,” he murmurs, kissing the inside of your palm “And I love you more than I thought I even could.”

His mouth finds yours again, slower this time. No rush.

The kind of kiss that makes the world outside the cabin disappear and maybe, tonight is the beginning of something new.

── .✦ Ace:

The sun is warm, the breeze is salty, and Ace is doing what he always does when he’s not fighting or eating: walking too close to you with that lazy grin on his face.

“You sure you don’t wanna race?” he asks “You lose, you buy lunch.”

You raise an eyebrow “You’ll cheat with your fire.”

“Not true.” He places a hand on his chest, all dramatic “I only cheat if I’m losing.”

You snort “So always.”

He gasps “Betrayal.”

The two of you walk down the main road of a small island town. It’s quiet, peaceful, one of those places that doesn’t care much for bounties or pirate crews. People nod, wave, smile. Ace stretches, yawns, and puts his arm lazily around your shoulder.

“Maybe we should stay here a few days,” he says “Nice change from all the running.”

Before you can answer, a small voice says “Is that Fire Fist Ace?!”

You both turn. Two kids stand by a fruit stall, one boy, maybe six, and an older girl, probably nine. The boy’s eyes are wide. The girl looks like she’s not impressed yet.

Ace grins “Yeah, that’s me.”

The boy lights up “No way! My dad told me you can burn down a whole ship in one punch!”

Ace shrugs, clearly proud “Depends on the ship.”

The girl, however, is staring at you.

Her eyes narrow “You’re her, aren’t you?”

You blink “…Her?”

She steps closer, pointing at your waist “You’re the swordwoman who beat that Navy officer in Loguetown. The one who fights with two blades and never loses.”

You look down at her, surprised. She’s serious. Ace whistles.

“Wow,” he says “I didn’t know I was walking around with a legend.”

You nudge him “Shut up.”

The girl keeps going “They say you cut a cannonball in half.”

You sigh “It was already cracked.”

Still, her eyes sparkle. The boy joins in, bouncing excitedly.

“She’s so cool! Are you really pirates?!”

“Guilty,” Ace says, holding up his hands “But friendly pirates.”

“You don’t look friendly...” the girl says.

Ace grins “Good. That’s the point.”

Then the boy tugs at your sleeve “Can I see your sword?”

You crouch to his level “They’re sharp. Not safe for kids.”

He frowns “I won’t touch it. Promise!”

You glance at Ace, who’s watching you closely, smiling like he’s waiting for something. You sigh and slowly pull one of your swords just a little from the sheath, just enough to show the edge. Both kids gasp like it’s treasure.

“Can you teach us how to fight?” the girl asks suddenly.

You blink “You’re nine.”

“So? You were probably younger when you started.”

Ace chuckles “She was.”

You give him a side-eye “Stop helping.”

The little girl folds her arms “You could just show us something. Like a move. Just one.”

You sigh again but you’re smiling now “You’re very stubborn.”

She shrugs “You have to be, if you wanna be strong.”

Ace leans against a wooden post, arms crossed, amused “Sounds familiar.”

You glance at him “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“I mean… yeah.” He grins “It’s the first time someone’s asking you for autographs instead of me. I’m letting it sink in.”

The boy tugs your coat again “Please? One move?”

You finally stand, looking at the open space near the dock “Fine. But just one. Then you leave us alone and go home, got it?”

The kids cheer and run to the clearing.

Ace follows, whistling “You’re gonna start a sword school at this rate.”

You roll your shoulders, then pull your blade halfway out, just enough to flash the steel. You drop into a stance, slow and firm. The kids go quiet. Then, with a sharp breath, you move. One swift, elegant slash through the air, so fast the wind shifts. The tip of your sword stops just above the ground, and your coat flutters around you.

The boy’s mouth hangs open. The girl’s eyes are huge.

Ace whistles “Show-off.”

You sheathe the sword in one clean motion.

The girl points “That was awesome! Can you do it again?”

“No,” you say, but you’re laughing now.

The boy runs over and hugs your leg suddenly “You’re my favorite pirate now!”

You blink, surprised. You pat his head awkwardly “Uh. Thanks?”

Ace watches you, your hand gently resting on the boy’s head, your stance still grounded, strong but soft. You’re not trying to impress anyone. You just exist like this. Capable. Calm. Kind. Something shifts in his chest.

You look up at him “What?”

He shrugs “Nothing. Just… didn’t know you were this good with kids.”

“I’m not,” you say “They’re just clingy.”

The girl now grabs your wrist “Can I hold your sword?”

“No.”

“Can I touch it?”

“No.”

“Can you teach me how to fight like that?”

“No—”

Ace walks over, laughing “C’mon, sweetheart. Be nice.”

You glare at him “You help, then.”

He lifts his hands “Nope. I’m just the fire guy. You’re the star today.”

The boy turns to Ace “Do you two live together?”

You and Ace exchange a look.

He grins “Something like that.”

The girl squints “Are you married?”

You cough “No.”

“Are you gonna be?”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

Ace just laughs and says, “Wanna help me convince her?”

“YES!” the kids shout in unison.

You groan and walk away “I regret everything.”

Ace follows, hands in his pockets, that lazy smile still on his face, but his eyes stay soft. He watches you gently shoo the kids away, then thank the fruit vendor with a quiet bow. And in that moment, he knows. Clear as day.

“She’s not just strong. She’s not just mine. She’d be the best damn mom the world’s ever seen.”

He doesn’t say it out loud. Not yet. But he’s thinking it. Hard.

You and Ace are sitting under a tree near the edge of the village, sharing a bag of sliced fruit.

“You think they’re gone?” you ask, biting into a juicy piece.

Ace shrugs “Maybe. Or maybe they’re forming a fan club.”

You nudge his leg with your boot “I don’t need a fan club.”

He gives you a lazy grin “No, but you deserve one.”

You roll your eyes, but your ears go a little pink.

Then, a small voice calls from down the road “WE’RE BACK!!”

You groan “No.”

Ace grins “Yes.”

The two kids come running, the boy nearly trips over his own feet and stop in front of you, proudly holding up folded paper sheets.

“Look!!” the girl says, unfolding one “We drew you!”

You blink “…You what?”

They hand you the papers. The drawings are messy, full of wild colors, but so full of heart. One is of you holding two swords, a big smile on your face. Another shows you and Ace together, tiny figures with stars around you. A third shows you with a little kid, sword in hand, standing tall.

You pause at that one. Ace leans over your shoulder to peek. His voice is softer now “Is that supposed to be your kid?”

The girl nods proudly “Yup! We made a story about you! You’re a pirate mom who protects her ship and teaches her kid how to be strong.”

You stare at the page, silent. The boy holds out a few crayons “You can draw too, if you want!”

Before you can say no, he’s already sitting down, opening another paper. The girl joins him. They look up at you, smiling.

“C’mon,” she says “We wanna make a whole crew!”

You glance at Ace. He shrugs, trying to act casual “Up to you.”

You sigh and sit down cross-legged in the grass “Alright. But I’m drawing the captain.”

“That’s YOU!” the boy says.

You raise an eyebrow “I meant me.”

They laugh.

You start sketching. Nothing fancy just simple shapes. You draw yourself with a pirate hat, a tiny sword tucked in your belt. The kids start adding characters around you: themselves, animals, someone with a frying pan who’s probably Ace.

You’re focused, smiling to yourself as you add waves and stars and a sun.

Ace just watches you from where he stands, hands in his pockets, face unreadable. There’s a heat in his chest now that has nothing to do with his powers. It burns deeper. It’s watching your hand gently guide the boy’s when he can’t get the lines straight. It’s hearing you ask, “Want me to draw your pirate flag too?” in that soft, patient voice.

It’s the way you look down at the page like you’re already imagining a future.

“This shouldn’t make me want her more,” he thinks, frustrated “But it does. She’s drawing little pirate stories with them on the grass. She’d be the kind of mom who makes the world feel safe.”

He swallows hard and looks away for a second, like it’ll calm him down... It doesn’t.

You finish your little drawing with a final scribble of wind in the sails.

“There,” you say, holding it up “Captain, crew, and treasure.”

The boy claps “It’s perfect!”

The girl leans over to look “Yours is way cooler than mine.”

“Nah,” you say, nudging her arm “You’ve got better colors.”

They beam like you just handed them gold.

Ace is still standing nearby, arms crossed, pretending to be relaxed, but his jaw is tight.

You glance up at him “You okay?”

“Me? Yeah.” His voice comes out rougher than he means it to. He clears his throat “Just… warm.”

The boy tugs at your sleeve again.

“Hey,” he says, eyes wide with curiosity “Do you have kids?”

You blink. Ace freezes.

The girl adds quickly, “You’d be a really cool mom.”

There’s a beat of silence. Just the wind and the scratching of a crayon. You sit back slowly and shake your head “No. I don’t.”

The boy frowns “Why not?”

You laugh softly “Because I’m still busy being a pirate.”

“But you could be both,” the girl says, very seriously “Like in the drawing.”

You smile at that “Maybe someday.”

Your voice is calm. Light. Like you’re just answering any question. But Ace… Ace is not calm. He watches your face as you say those words “Maybe someday” and his heart lurches. Because now it’s real. Not just a fantasy in his head. Not just a warm thought. You’ve imagined it too now.

He doesn’t say anything. He just walks over slowly and sits down behind you, arms resting over your shoulders as you lean back against his chest.

“You’d be amazing at it.” he murmurs, low so the kids can’t hear.

You glance up “At what?”

He looks down at you, eyes soft and a little wild at the edges, like something’s breaking open inside him “At being a mom. I mean it.”

You pause. Then, quietly, you ask, “You think about that?”

He nods “More than I expected to. More than I ever thought I would.”

The kids are still doodling, totally unaware. You say nothing, but your hand reaches up and rests gently over his. That’s all he needs.

The kids eventually stand up, arms full of drawings and unfinished paper pirate maps.

“We’re gonna go show these to our grandpa!” the girl says.

The boy nods “Thanks for drawing with us!”

You wave, still sitting in the grass “Stay out of trouble.”

The boy grins “Bye, pirate mom!”

You blink “I’m not—”

But they’re already gone.

Ace snorts behind you “Pirate mom, huh?”

You roll your eyes and lean back into him again “Don’t start.”

He rests his chin on your shoulder “Too late. You’ve got the role down already. You give good advice, threaten people just enough, and draw cool flags. What more could a kid want?”

You hum “A dad who doesn’t set the house on fire?”

He grins “I’d try to keep it contained.”

You laugh, light and warm “You’d accidentally roast our laundry.”

“Okay, yeah, but I’d teach them how to blow stuff up responsibly.”

You fake-think “Hmm. Dangerous. But useful.”

He smiles, but then falls quiet. You feel the shift instantly. His arms wrap tighter around your middle.

“You were really sweet with them.” he says softly.

You shrug “They were cute.”

“You were cuter.”

You snort “Gross.”

“No, seriously,” he murmurs “I was watching you and thinking… like, really thinking—”

He breaks off, then tries again “That I wanna see you like that again. With… our own.”

You smirk “You mean with a mini version of me bossing you around?”

He groans “Oh god. A tiny you would be terrifying.”

“Admit it. You’d love it.”

He doesn’t hesitate.

“I would,” he says, suddenly serious “I really would.”

You look up at him. He’s already looking down at you, eyes soft, mouth slightly parted, like he’s realizing it all over again.

You tilt your head, grinning “You’re so obvious, Ace.”

“Am not.”

“You were practically glowing while I helped that kid draw a sword.”

“I was not glowing!”

“You sighed like five times.”

“I didn’t—”

“You had your sappy ‘I’m in love’ face on.”

“I always have my sappy in love face on.”

You laugh, twisting in his arms to face him fully “True.”

He leans in, forehead pressed to yours.

“I’m serious though,” he murmurs “Someday. I’d want that. With you.”

Your voice softens “Yeah. Me too.”

You kiss him slow, sure, and just a little teasing, then pull back with a grin “But if the kid turns out chaotic like you, I’m blaming your genes.”

He laughs against your mouth “Deal. But if they’re scary with a sword by age seven, that’s all you.”

You smirk “We’ll make a terrifying little pirate together.”

“Perfect.” he says, smiling like he already sees it.

[keets-writing-corner]

Thinking a LOT about Lucifer in the latest Hazbin episode. Idk what I was expecting but not this??

As I was watching my immediate thought was just "huh... Lucifer is kinda of weird..." but as the episode went on I realized the issue

the dude is off the chain depressed, like he says it as a joke but holy cow it is SO BAD

He's manically just creating rubber ducks cuz his daughter really like it that one time but it's empty, it's never good enough but he keeps doing it, maybe cuz he doesn't know how to pass the time otherwise.

like I get the feeling he HAS better things he SHOULD be doing than making rubber duck after rubber duck. At first I was like, "Bruh why isn't the king of hell doing anything?" aaaaand then it became clear...

The dude is disassociating so bad he can barely hold a conversation let alone remember information. He clearly WANTS to, he wants to be involved with his daughter so bad, he wants to care about the things she's doing so bad, but his depression keeps interfering. It's like he can only hear every other word and he grasps onto the ones he does hear semi-out of context. Like you can see every time he catches something that he hadn't before and he just "well shit I didn't catch that part"

and that's why he reacts so weird when people talk to him. He is struggling so bad to engage with the conversation he's only getting 50% of it

does that look like the face of a man who knows what the hell the conversation is even about??? he is STRUGGLING

like Charlie spent so long telling him about the hotel, and he STILL didn't understand what she wanted. Yeah it comes off as ditzy but literally I've been in that position where your brain just "nope, not doing this right now" and nerfs your conversation comprehension. So as someone who's BEEN in that position, to me it feels exactly like what he's dealing with. He's sorta engaged with the conversation, but only as much as his brain will allow

For example, when I'm dealing with this, this is what someone talking to me feels like this where the crossed out parts are what I missed and bold is what I catch, "Hey! You know I was thinking for dinner we could either make some chicken with rice? But if you don't feel like cooking, pasta is super easy and you love that right? What do you want to do?" you can kinda get that someone is trying to talk to you about dinner, and towards the end you get the impression that they asked something that needs your input so you can decently put 2 and 2 together and try and pass off, but crucial bits were left out, I would have no idea that either chicken or pasta is in the conversation only having heard "rice". When someone is just talking at me, I can decently pass off as being engaged but the second I'm required to participate in the conversation I'm screwed. Seem familiar? At which point I have 2 options, try to give a bullshit answer, or admit that I missed what they were saying and ask them to repeat

Lucifer, unfortunately, is trying so damn hard to hide that he's dealing with like 24/7 dissociation, so he can't admit that he's missing entire chunks of the conversation, hence his really weird replies. He does eventually get the full picture and then he and Charlie start having the real conversation

Also, the Alastor/Lucifer rivalry was hilarious but also really indicative of more of what Lucifer is dealing with

Alastor is, unfortunately, really good at picking up people's insecurities, and thanks to Charlie's description earlier and watching Lucifer clearly trying to overcompensate, he immediately picks up on the fact that Lucifer KNOWS he struggles to be a good dad (we know cuz it's cuz of the depression, hard to be engaged when your brain keeps turning off) and decides to rub salt in the wound by pretending he's been acting as a surrogate father to Charlie. Now why Alastor decided to pick a fight with the king of hell is beyond me, I do not understand Alastor (and I LIKE IT) (maybe it's cuz Alastor thinks he's hot shit and was expecting Lucifer to at least have heard of him but Lucifer just treats him like a nobody? who knows)(why would Lucifer listen to radio anyways when he can't even pay attention to a conversation it'd just be white noise)

But yeah I just was expecting someone who oozed either charisma or presence and instead I got a depressed dad who's dissociating so bad he can barely function and be present in his life. The only thing it seems he CAN do is make rubber ducks cuz his daughter really liked it that one time

Idk Lucifer is tragic to me. Whatever the full details of what heavan did to him absolutely broke him and he can't deal with it. He's aware of it, and he doesn't know how to fix it, so he tries to over compensate and sorta makes an ass out of himself but no one says or does anything cuz this guy is supposed to be THE king of hell

Suddenly it's making a lot more sense why he just rolls over and lets heaven do what it wants and even told Charlie to go in his place the start of the show. He's not in any headspace to hold a basic conversation let alone negotiate! He didn't even know who Alastor was, he's been so out of touch

idk I like him, he seems sweet, I hope Charlie brings some light back into his life. He really needs to get out of that rubber duck room

[hoonsluvr]

CHERRY

박성훈 ꒰ park sunghoon ꒱ — genre; summer au, best friend’s older brother, forbidden romance, smut, a bit of fluff, angst ୨ৎ cw; p in v, unprotected sex, spit, choking, gagging, oral f.rec, mating press, edging MDNI. ⟡ synopsis; you never thought that an unexpected obsession formed during your trip to southern italy would teach you one life’s cruelest lessons — never fuck your bestfriend’s brother ୨ৎ wc; 4.8k — library ⭑.ᐟ

inspired by; cherry - lana del rey

isla yaps; hii, this is my first work so i’m a bit nervous!! lmk what you think of the layout and feedback in general is appreciated! :)

Was it wrong that you felt happy when your parents announced they wanted to take a vacation alone this year?

You sit opposite them at the dining table, your mom explaining herself for the hundredth time over. Clearly she felt guilty about it but you didn't mind. “You know its our anniversary during that time darling and I hope you understand that we love having you with us, of course we do, but 50th anniversaries are rather special and we’re booking a honeymoon resort.”

You feign a look of sadness to act like you’re listening but your mind is already elsewhere. It wasn’t that you didn’t like spending time with your parents, that wasn’t the problem at all, but now that a family vacation was out of the picture, joining Stella’s family in Italy was back in the conversation.

Soojin, or Stella as she liked to be called was your best friend, your ride or die. Years ago, when you moved to a new town, the Park family were your next door neighbours and you and Stella quickly became close, bonding over your hatred for the town and its people. You two had always felt suffocated in its environment, the way everyone knew everyone’s drama, everyone’s problems, everyone’s secrets. You promised each other that one day you would escape and explore the world together for that very reason.

You were over at her house so much that you were basically a part of the family. You had your thumbprint on their security system, the password to the garage door, and even your own designated chair at the dining table. Her mom used to jokingly call you two sisters, but honestly, that didn’t feel far off. You and Stella had grown up together, seen all of each other’s phases too. The cringe phase, the boy-obsessed phase, oh god- the emo phase, and yet your friendship was still going strong. From weekend sleepovers where you giggled and gossiped all night long to crying on each other’s shoulders after not feeling accepted in school, to smoking your first blunt together, you two had been through every whirlwind experience together. After all these years, you still struggled to express just how much admiration you held for her.

And now, it had come. This was the last summer you had left with her. In 3 months you were going to head North to New York City, to pursue a degree in arts while Stella would remain in your hometown. When you broke the news, you expected her to be angry at you because of the promise you made to travel together forever, but she simply smiled and told you she was proud of you and that she always knew you would make it far.

You felt a pit in your stomach thinking about being apart, you had never really imagined life without her, so imagine your relief and excitement when she proposed that you join her family on their vacation to Italy this summer. One last chance to have the time of your life with your best friend while you were both still young? No one could catch you dead saying no.

-

“Mom, please.” You beg, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from frustration. You sit across from her on the kitchen island, sipping on a mango smoothie as she prepped dinner for tonight. At this point, the conversation had been going on for far too long and both of you were running thin on patience. “I just don’t understand why you won’t let me go.” You huffed, used to getting your way.

Your mother sighs. “Sweetie, I’ve explained this to you. The Parks have done so much for you, your entire life! I just don’t want you to be a burden on them when they’re trying to have a family vacation. They're extremely sweet for offering but it’s a tough situation.”

“Ugh!” You exclaim and your mother shoots you a don’t-be-so-dramatic look. “They offered to have me! And besides, with you and daddy going to Mexico and Stella going to Italy, I’m going to be alone this summer. My last summer before college is going to be spent wasting away. It’ll be years before I see Stella again!” You pout, your eyes sparkling with hope as you see her expression soften, triumphant that you clearly struck a soft spot.

“We’ll see about it darling.” She sighs.

Even with her weary expression, all the tell-tale signs were there. She had been convinced. You stand up, satisfied as you go to text Stella the news.

And that’s how you find yourself going to the South of Italy for three weeks with the Parks: Stella, her mother and father, and her older brother Sunghoon.

Sunghoon had always been a little shy and introverted making him hard to talk to, your four year age gap not doing much to help create a relationship either. Despite that, Sunghoon had always tried being sweet to you. After many attempts of trying to talk to him over the years, you finally managed to break his shell the one time he rescued your prized possession, a teddy bear plush named Ben, from a tree branch. You still remember the warm hug he gave you when you cried over Ben’s stitching being torn and ever since that day, although you wouldn’t call yourself friends, the relationship shifted. It changed from nods of acknowledgement to smiles, from waves of greeting to hugs.

During your last years of middle school, you even developed a small crush on him but you never once told Stella, knowing she would have killed you. Once you turned fourteen, Sunghoon left to go for college and you hadn’t seen him since then. You had no idea what he was like now, his personality, his likes and dislikes, his interests. Honestly, the thought worried you a little. You just decided you would try sticking to Stella on the trip, hoping that things wouldn’t be awkward.

Only if you knew. Only if you knew what was about to happen, you never would’ve chosen to go on that godforsaken trip.

-

The last minute nature of your decision to join the vacation meant that tickets weren’t available on the same flight as the Parks, so you booked one for a flight that arrived in Italy just two days later. You didn’t mind however, you were just excited to spend time with Stella.

And so you arrive in the quaint beach town of Taormina, located on the shorelines of the island of Sicily. The drive from the airport to your location spans over rugged hills overlooking the Loian sea. You maintain small talk with the barely english speaking driver, chatting about what to do in town and what beaches to visit. A gasp leaves your mouth as the taxi comes to a halt outside a stunning Italian villa style Airbnb. You know the Parks aren’t exactly middle class, neither were you, but you weren’t expecting this much grandeur.

Cobblestone bricks line the pathway to the house, leaning up against the ivy covered walls. Heaps of colorful potted flowers are placed at the entrance and a wooden gazebo in the corner catches your eye. Stella is sitting in the gazebo, sipping tea. When she sees you, she jumps up in excitement and rushes over.

“You’re here!” She squeals and twirls you around as you both laugh excitedly. You hear claps of joy from the back as Shin-ah, Stella’s mom steps out of the front door, her husband, Ji-hun in close pursuit. You quickly wish the driver goodbye and thank him before hugging them both fondly.

“Gosh, we only just saw you a month ago and you’ve already become prettier!” Shin-ah exclaims, making you blush and immediately resort to your usual ‘humble’ deflections that you recited out like a poem whenever she complimented you.

You lean to the side, getting up onto your tip-toes to get a glimpse of the dark haired boy who just stepped out of the door. Sunghoon. His short black hair was now grown out into a mullet and he no longer held the smiley expression that his face once always used to carry. You glance at his arms, his thin tank top showing off his muscles, a striking difference to his previously scrawny build. He looks so different. He’s grown now and more confident, no longer the sweet, shy boy you used to crush on. Theres no doubt, Sunghoon Park has matured. He’s a man now. A fucking gorgeous man, that too.

Sunghoon murmurs a half-hearted greeting towards you, reminiscent of the way he used to speak to you before you two became comfortable. You’re not surprised-it had been years since you’d seen him. Traces of your previous dynamics were long gone by now. You return the soft greeting as Shin-ah ushers you into the house, Stella following behind, wheeling your luggage in.

“You must be hungry, come, we’ve already set the table.” And sure enough, the intricately carved wooden dining table was all set up with dishes, cutlery and a large pizza in the centre. Dinner with the Parks is comfortable as you go back and forth with them, discussing the trip’s itinerary, recent stories and more.

Shin-ah glances at Sunghoon before turning back to you. “So, you and Sunghoon haven’t seen each other in a while. He’s been asking what you’ve been up to.” It was horribly obvious that Sunghoon couldn’t care less about what you’d been up to. His mouth opens in annoyance at his mother’s words. “What? No I—" But he’s cut off by a sharp nudge from his father who scowls at him. Embarrassment pools inside of you and you laugh awkwardly before Shin-ah nods encouragingly for you to continue.

“Well uh— I’m going to NYU after this summer. I’m going to be studying art history and I’m hoping to get an internship with a local gallery this summer, after the trip of course. But yeah…” You trail off awkwardly as Sunghoon pretends to be interested. An awkward atmosphere settles over the table and you finish in silence.

After dinner, you head up to your room that you’ll be sharing with Stella. You’re sitting on the floor, unpacking your suitcase while she removes her makeup.

“Hey,” she turns to you, “I’m sorry about what happened with Hoon earlier. I don’t know why he’s acting like that.”

You wave it off. “No, don’t worry about it at all, it’s all good. I’m sure it’ll settle down in a while.”

She nods comfortingly but deep down you feel a little hurt. You knew that it wasn’t going to be the same but you didn’t expect him to be so cold.

-

After a few chaotic days of what felt like never-ending sightseeing and cold shoulders from Sunghoon, you finally collapse onto a picnic blanket out in the back-garden, your white sundress pooling around your knees. You roll over onto your stomach, kicking your legs into the air as you grab your book, the pages soft between your hands as you slowly flip through, trying to find where you left off. Pop. The sound of plastic popping as you open the box of glowing red cherries next to you. Your favorite.

You're a few pages in when a soft voice calls from behind you. “Hey.” You glance behind to see him standing there in a loose white shirt and khaki shorts, holding a book. He laughs softly as you scramble to straighten yourself. “No need for that, you can sit however you want.”

“No, no it's okay,” you shake your head, sitting up straight now, confused at his cheerful demeanour “what do you need?”

“I was wondering if I could join you,” he tilted his head, “you seem to be having fun.”

You squeeze internally. Something about Sunghoon was making you nervous right now but you plaster on a sweet smile nonetheless, “of course.”

You’re hyperaware of his every movement as he approaches and sits down next to you on the blanket. He holds up the book he had and it takes you a second to realise that both of you had gotten the same book to read, ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’. You smile at him, “that’s funny.”

“It is, isn’t it?” He hums. “How’s Ben doing?”

You laugh, the anxious feeling in your stomach fading a little. There’s no need to be nervous in the first place, it’s just Sunghoon. “He’s doing okay. No more accidents since the last.”

The two of you fall into silence. He coughs. "Listen... I uh— I didn't mean to act that way when you first came."

You nod almost immediately. "You don't have to explain yourself, I get it, it's fine."

"No, I was acting like a jerk for no reason. I mean- you know how I am with people at first and I hadn't seen you in a while, it just took me a while to get used to. That's not an excuse for how I acted though, I'm sorry."

You peer at him. "I get it, I figured that's the reason you were acting distant. It's okay. I'm glad we can be pause normal again." You both look at each other and for a second you feel him glance at your lips but his eyes move away so fast, it's impossible to tell. He smiles softly at you.

-

Your legs are crossed as you lounge lazily on a chair on the balcony, taking in the view of the salty sea, waves lapping against the rocks. Once again, a box of perfectly round Italian cherries lay on the table behind you. You couldn't seem to get enough of them.

“You must really like these.” Sunghoon murmurs from behind you, pointing at the box of the sweet fruit. You smile lazily at him, not surprised by his interruption. Somehow, he had been finding you in all sorts of odd places recently, almost as if he was looking for you from the second you disappeared from view. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Sunghoon thought you were pretty. You realised fairly quickly from the way his eyes flicked up and down whenever he saw you, resting on your tits for just a second more.

“They’re my favorite.” You nod, grabbing one and popping it into your mouth as he watches. Maybe it's the way he’s staring at you hungrily but a newfound confidence takes over you. You reach for another cherry but this time, you make sure to hold eye contact with him, looking up with big bambi eyes as your tongue swirls around the sweet fruit. You bite into it and the red juice dribbles down your chin, your eyes glinting. His finger instinctively reaches down, a millimetre away from your chin before you nod to give him permission.

He swipes at the juice on your chin, before pulling his finger back, licking it slowly. Your throat suddenly feels like it’s constricting. You should not be doing this— holy shit you should not be doing this. You stand abruptly, coughing slightly. He doesn’t react much but a slight smirk plays on his face. Pause. “I should go,” you stutter as you rush into the house, heart hammering in your chest.

You try your best to ignore him for the next few days because you had no idea what possessed you to do that. Your mind constantly replayed the moment. The way he stared at you. The way he touched you. The way he licked his finger. God you were so fucked. Every time you saw Stella, you couldn’t help but feel guilty but then you tried comforting yourself. It wasn’t like you had done anything wrong, nothing actually happened.

You didn’t even notice what you were doing at first, your actions seemingly innocent in your mind. You just wanted to make the most of the summer clothes you owned and the heat in Taormina was intense, right? But your skirts were growing shorter and shorter by the day, your bikinis became skimpier and skimpier. That, accompanied by the way you tucked your hair behind your ear when he came around, batted your eyelashes at him, knowing it made him crazy-you hadn’t even realised but that little incident between the two of you had made you develop a little obsession with Sunghoon Park, just like the one you had all those years ago. And you were desperate for his attention now.

Right from your shiny olive skin that glistened in the Italian sun to your long hair that swayed as you walked, Sunghoon Park knew you were gorgeous, even more so now that you were making it painfully obvious. He knew. He knew you were doing all of this entirely on purpose but that didn’t mask his staring as you lather on sunscreen, resting beside him in the sand in a floral pink bikini.

You know you have him.

"Hey can you help me with this?" You ask softly, holding out the bottle of sunscreen towards him. His jaw ticks but he takes the bottle from your hand.

"Actually," you smile sweetly, "on second thought, I think I'm done, what do you think?"

If looks could kill, you would strike dead at this very moment from the way he was looking at you. “What’s your game?”

You stare at him, not expecting him to say those words so soon. “What do you mean?” You pout, pretending to be oblivious, a little upset that you didn't get to have that much fun with him before he called you out.

He scoffs. “You know exactly what I mean. Don’t play dumb. You like teasing me and then pulling away at the last moment, don’t you?” When you don’t respond, his expression hardens. “You’re trying to win a game you don’t even know how to play.”

Before you get the chance to respond, the two of you are interrupted as Stella runs to you, laughing.

“Hey are you having fun?” Stella smiles down at you.

“I’m having a great time, thanks.”

She nods as she moves to sit down on the sand, between you and Sunghoon.

Theres a moment of silence before you speak. “Hey Stells, thank you for letting me come. I appreciate it a lot. I would’ve had a terrible summer without you and I’m just really glad we get to spend time together before … you know …”

She smiles at you again. A genuine smile. “I’m gonna miss you. A lot. And I know you’re worried but i’m not, because I know we’ll always be friends. We’ve been through everything together and stupid New York isn’t going to change that.” As she pulls you in for a hug, you feel a pang in your heart. You love your friend and the last thing you want is for her older brother to come between you. But you just can’t help yourself.

You glance up at Sunghoon who's watching you two hug with an emotion in his eyes that you can't quite place. He meets your eyes and you shut yours, unable to look at him any longer. You hold onto Stella tighter, suddenly feeling disgusted with yourself. You're sickening. Sickening and selfish.

-

Your phone screen shows 4:36AM and sleep wasn’t coming. You sit up, rubbing your eyes as you glance at Stella snoring beside you. You get out of bed slowly, the wood creaking beneath you. You desperately needed a walk to clear your mind. Stepping into your fuzzy slippers, you leave the room, entering the narrow corridor outside. Sunghoon’s door stands tall in front of your face, which you would have normally ignored, except today, streaks of light peek out of the crack at the bottom. Why is he awake?

You know you shouldn’t. You know you really shouldn’t but you do it anyways. You knock softly. A few moments pass and you think he might not come. Right as you’re about to leave, the door clicks open and he stands there in grey sweats, shirtless. You choke a little but he doesn’t notice, neither does he seem surprised to see you.

He looks you up and down and you realise what you’re wearing—a tiny pink lace-trim nightgown, barely covering anything. He’s smirking now. “Come in.”

“Uh I—“ You start to say as you begin to regret your decision but you’re cut off by his harsh tone, his smirk now faded, replaced with a hardened expression.

“That wasn't a question. Come. In.”

You swallow nervously as you follow him into the room and shut the door behind you. Sunghoon sits on the edge of the bed, motioning for you to stand in front of him. You do as he asks and now you're staring down at his face, your silky hair hanging loosely, brushing against his cheeks. He starts to grab harshly at your waist and you gasp slightly.

"You think this is funny huh? Playing all these games? Do you have any idea what you're doing at all?" When you don't respond he starts again. “What? Cat got your tongue? Are you all nervous now? Don't be, you started this after all."

You breathe out shakily, hands finding his neck. "Please—"

"Please what?" His smirk is back, he likes that he's finally the one in control. "Say you want me."

"God I want you, I do." You whine pathetically. And whatever little power you may have had over him was gone, he had claimed it back. His dark eyes glint sinisterly as he stands, picking you up by the waist and placing you down onto the bed. Your legs are raised, being held up by his hands as he presses kisses on your left ankle. He slowly makes his way down, nuzzling his nose into your inner thighs. His teeth lock onto your panties and you gasp as he drags them off, discarding them on the floor, leaving you exposed.

"Fuck you're beautiful."

He dives in again, his nose pressing against your clit as he laps harshly at your folds. You throw your head back, a jerk reaction to the sudden sensitivity. You cry out and feel him immediately stop what he was doing. You whine softly in annoyance. "Wow baby, it seems like you really want my sister to know I'm fucking you right now." You swallow harshly as his eyes shoot daggers at you. "Keep. Quiet."

He's looking at your pussy now. You wait, burning to see what he would do. And he spits on it. You gasp, biting your lip to stop the moan. He spits right on your pussy, using his fingers to spread his saliva around your messy area. He begins to lick up your folds again, pressing his tongue down on your clit.

You can't handle it. It's pathetic but you already feel a knot building up in your stomach. "Hoon— I'm going to—"

"Not yet," he spits out, coming up.

You moan weakly in protest but he doesn't seem to care. "You don't deserve to cum yet. You've not been a very good girl have you?" You shake your head.

His hands reach for his pants now, pulling them down in one quick move and you could see how painfully hard he is. Your eyes widen as he pulls out his cock. It was big. Too big. Bigger than you'd ever had before and you didn't know if you would be able to handle it. He laughs, looking at your expression. "Don't worry baby, we'll make it fit."

He pushes your legs up all the way and you were practically bent in half in front of him, your knees blurrily shifting in and out of your peripheral vision. He lines his cock up with your entrance and rubs the tip across your wet folds, groaning softly as his eyes shut. Without warning, he pushes it in and you shriek in surprise, causing him to shove his fingers into your throat. You're choking around his fingers now as he thrusts into you, quickening the pace. Tears stream down your face as you gag, you're close again, you can feel it, but so can he. Just as you're about to reach your high, he stops his motion again and you lean back into the bed, panting hard. You're desperate for release now but as you stare up at his fucked out face through your lashes, smirking down at you, you know he's not going to give you that release anytime soon.

So you go four more rounds. Four more rounds of chasing that desperate high that he pulls away from you at the last moment. You're fucked up now, sweating and panting, your hair splayed across your face as you cried and cried, begging him. The sun had risen now and it pooled in through the window, enveloping you in a warm glow, making your tan skin look golden.

"God baby, you look so fucking sexy right now." Sunghoon reaches an arm towards the desk nearby, where a small pile of digital cameras lay. Stella's digital cameras. The one's she had excitedly bought for the trip, wanting to capture every memory. He points the lens of one of them at you and you don't even have enough energy to protest. Click. And just like that, a picture of you in one of your most fucked up moments was captured forever. He tosses the camera aside, turning his attention back to you.

"You up for one more?"

Strings of gibberish come out from your mouth and he chuckles as he pushes into you once again. He thrusts in and out and you're moaning loudly this time but neither of you cared anymore. You're so sensitive at this point that it doesn't take long for that familiar feeling to arise again. This time, Sunghoon lets you have it. You let out a strangled moan as you feel your orgasm wash over you. Pure fucking euphoria. He collapses on top of you after cumming as well. You reach out, your hands tangling in his hair, stroking his face gently.

You realise you haven't kissed yet. You lean down, placing a gentle kiss on his pink lips. He kisses you back immediately but there is no lust behind it. "You're a goddess, you know that?" He speaks, muffled against your arm. You laugh this time, reaching for the camera next to you. Click. Another picture. But this one is much cuter, the two of you staring into the camera, laughing as your arms are wrapped around him. Click. And another. He's kissing you and you just want to stay in this moment forever.

-

The remainder of the vacation is spent stealing glances and kisses with Sunghoon as you two sneak away at random times together. You visited his room every night, sometimes it was sex and sometimes you just wanted to cuddle.

If there was one thing you were sure of by the end of the vacation, it's that you were madly, madly in love with him. And he was in love with you too.

-

1 month later

You step into your room, flopping onto the bed, exhausted from your shift at the gallery. You pull out your phone to texts from both Stella and Sunghoon. Sunghoon's reads 'see you tomorrow :)' while Stella had texted to cancel your bar plans for the night, wanting to hang out at home instead. You almost feel relieved, too tired to even think of going to the bar. Instead, you quickly change your clothes and head over to the house next door. Shin-ah opens the door and she's delighted to see you as ever.

After exchanging some small talk, you head upstairs to Stella's room, briefly glancing at Sunghoon's door.

"Hey Ste—“ You stop. She isn't there.

You look around, confused for a moment before realising she's sitting outside on the balcony.

"Hey, what's up?" You smile at her as you take the seat beside her.

She doesn't respond, staring straight ahead into the pink sky. She's holding an envelope, nothing too special, just a plain white envelope.

"Do you know what this is?" She speaks for the first time, holding the envelope up, still refusing to look at you.

Your eyebrows furrow. "No?"

She breathes out, finally turning to meet your eyes. You recoil slightly when you see the wild anger looking straight at you. She opens the envelope slowly, almost teasingly. "You know..." She trails, "I recently sent in the film from the trip to be developed."

Your stomach drops.

She knows.

The envelope is finally open and she pulls out three photos. The first one of you laid down on the bed, fucked out with his cock still inside you, then you and Sunghoon are hugging naked, then you're kissing.

You're going to throw up.

"Look at me." She speaks softly, gently, but her voice is full of venom.

You look up to meet her eyes but you just can't do it. Your world is spinning.

"I want you to go to New York," her voice drops to a whisper, "and never come back. I never want to see you again. I never want you to see my brother ever again. Do you understand?"

You're nodding now, pleading silently, tears streaming down your face but you know it's not going to do anything.

She takes your nod as a yes. "Good, then we're clear."